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LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 



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LIBRARY OF CONGRESS, 

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UNITED STATES OP AMERICA. 



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A R I A N 
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FROM THE WORKS 



WILLIAM E. CHANNING, D.D 



^ BOSTON: 
AMERICAN UNITARIAN ASSOCIATION, 

21 BROMFIELD STREET. 

1855. 



THE Lit****! 

OF congie**! 



Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1855, by 

GEORGE G. CHANNING, 

[n the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts. 



PREFACE 



The circulation in this country of more than one hundred 
and twenty thousand volumes of the works of the late Wil- 
liam Ellery Charming, D. D., attests the interest that is felt 
among us in these writings. Many editions in England, and 
recent translations in France, Germany, and Italy, give proof 
that their influence is not confined to this country. In the 
general unsettling of old opinions, in the growing disposition 
to look at Christianity from new and higher points of view, 
we may find reasons to believe that few authors are destined 
to have a wider influence ; while the rational basis on which 
lie rests his faith in Christianity, the profound reverence with 
which he surveys its claims, and the primitive simplicity to 
which he restores its substance, point him out as one of the 
most needed and beneficent teachers of this age. 

The American Unitarian Association, in order to place the 
most characteristic religious publications of this author with- 
in the reach of all readers at a greatly reduced cost, have 
caused the following selection to be made. It contains all the 
clearest and fullest statements he gave of his views concern- 
ing theology and religion. The Discourses which attracted 
the widest attention and date a new era in the history of 
religious opinions, and the elaborate Treatises on the Evi- 
dences of Christianity, are here presented at a cost a little 
exceeding that of two pamphlets. 

(Hi) 



IV PREFACE. 

The six volume edition of these works, on good paper and 
neatly bound; the Association will continue to supply at the 
low price of two dollars. But some readers may prefer a 
selection from the productions of this celebrated writer and 
divine in smaller compass and more compact form. To them 
the following volume is now offered. There are high motives 
which may plead for assistance in promoting its circulation. 
In a style of singular simplicity and beauty, an eloquent 
voice wins us to feel the paternal character of God, the divin- 
ity of the mission of Jesus Christ, the greatness and attrac- 
tiveness of a holy life. Some of the most original and bril- 
liant thoughts that have been contributed by the literature of 
the age are scattered through these pages. No better service 
can be rendered to a young man who may be sceptical as to 
the truth of Christianity than to place this volume in his 
hands ; and thousands, repelled from all religion by formalism 
and bigotry, may, by this book, be led to a believing and de- 
vout life. 

It remains only to be added, that in the arrangement of 
the contents of this volume reference has been had" to three 
general topics : 1, the basis on which the author rested his 
belief in Christianity ; 2, what he understood the essential 
and important features of Christianity to be ; 3, the high 
ideal of duty and piety which he believed Christianity pre- 
sents. 

H. A. M. 



N. B. This volume is one of a series proposed to be published by the 
Book Fund of the Association, and is accordingly lettered as the first of the 
Theological Library. The second volume in that library will soon be pub- 
lished, and will be entitled " Unitarian Principles confirmed by Trinitarian 
Testimonies." Other volumes will follow. 



CONTENTS. 



PAGE 

INTRODUCTORY REMARKS. . . . . . .1 

CHRISTIANITY A RATIONAL RELIGION 27 

EVIDENCES OF REVEALED RELIGION. . . . .63 

EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 95 

UNITARIAN CHRISTIANITY. 179 

UNITARIAN CHRISTIANITY MOST FAVORABLE TO PIETY. 225 

OBJECTIONS TO UNITARIAN CHRISTIANITY CONSIDERED. . 269 
MORAL ARGUMENT AGAINST CALVINISM. ... 287 

LETTER ON CATHOLICISM. . . . . . . .313 

LETTER ON CREEDS. . . . . . . .341 

THE CHURCH 351 

SELF-CULTURE . .399 

IMITABLENESS OF CHRIST'S CHARACTER 465 



INTRODUCTORY REMARKS. 



The following tracts, having passed through various 
editions at home and abroad, are now collected to meet 
the wishes of those, who may incline to possess them in 
a durable form. In common with all writings, which have 
obtained a good degree of notice, they have been criti- 
cized freely ; but as they have been published not to dic- 
tate opinions, but to excite thought and inquiry, they 
have not failed of their end, even when they have pro- 
voked doubt or reply. They have, I think, the merit 
of being earnest expressions of the writer's mind, and 
of giving the results of quiet, long-continued thought. 

Some topics will be found to recur often, perhaps the 
reader may think too often; but it is in this way, that a 
writer manifests his individuality, and he can in no other 
do justice to his own mind. Men are distinguished from 
one another, not merely by difference of thoughts, but 
often more by the different degrees of relief or prominence, 
which they give to the same thoughts. In nature, what 
an immense dissimilarity do we observe in organized 
bodies, which consist of the same parts or elements, but 
in which these are found in great diversity of proportions! 
So, to learn what a man is, it is not enough to dissect his 
mind, and see separately the thoughts and feelings which 
successively possess him. The question is, what thoughts 



4 INTRODUCTORY REMARKS. 

God enter into the very essence of piety; that our grand 
labor should be, to turn the mind from the creature to the 
creator; that the creature cannot sink too low in our esti- 
mation, or God fill too high a sphere. God, we are told, 
must not be limited; nor are his rights to be restrained 
by any rights in his creatures. These are made to min- 
ister to their Maker's glory, not to glorify themselves. 
They wholly depend on him, and have no power which 
they can call their own. His sovereignty, awful and 
omnipotent, is not to be kept in check, or turned from 
its purposes, by any claims of his subjects. Man's place 
is the dust. The entire prostration of his faculties is the 
true homage, he is to offer God. He is not to exalt his 
reason or his sense of right against the decrees of the 
Almighty. He has but one lesson to learn, that he is 
nothing, that God is All in All. Such is the common 
language of theology. 

These views are exceedingly natural. That the steady, 
earnest contemplation of the Infinite One, should so daz- 
zle the mind as to obscure or annihilate all things else, 
ought not to surprise us. By looking at the sun, we lose 
the power of seeing other objects. It was, I conceive, 
one design of God in hiding himself so far from us, in 
throwing around himself the veil of his works, to prevent 
this very evil. He intended that our faculties should be 
left at liberty to act on other things besides himself, that 
the will should not be crushed by his overpowering great- 
ness, that we should be free agents, that we should re- 
cognise rights in ourselves and in others as well as in 
the Creator, and thus be introduced into a wide and ever 
enlarging sphere of action and duty. Still the idea of 
the Infinite is of vast power, and the mind, in surrender- 
ing itself to it, is in danger of becoming unjust to itself 
and other beings, of losing that sentiment of self-respect, 
which should be inseparable from a moral nature, of de- 



INTRODUCTORY REMARKS. O 

grading the intellect by the forced belief of contradic- 
tions which God is supposed to sanction, and of losing 
that distinct consciousness of moral freedom, of power 
over itself, without which the interest of life and the 
sense of duty are gone. 

Let it not be imagined from these remarks, that I would 
turn the mind from God's Infinity. This is the grand 
truth ; but it must not stand alone in the mind. The 
finite is something real as well as the infinite. We must 
reconcile the two in our theology. It is as dangerous 
to exclude the former as the latter. God surpasses all 
human thought ; yet human thought, mysterious, unbound- 
ed, "wandering through eternity," is not to be con- 
temned. God's sovereignty is limitless ; still man has 
rights. God's power is irresistible ; still man is free. On 
God, we entirely depend ; yet we can and do act from 
ourselves, and determine our own characters. These an- 
tagonist ideas, if so they may be called, are equally true, 
and neither can be spared. It will not do for an impas- 
sioned or an abject piety, to wink one class of them out 
of sight. In a healthy mind they live together ; and the 
worst error in religion has arisen from throwing a part 
of them into obscurity. 

In most religious systems, the tendency has been to 
seize exclusively on the idea of the Infinite, and to sacri- 
fice to this the finite, the created, the human. This I 
have said is very natural. To the eye of sense, man is 
such a mote in the creation, his imperfections and sins 
are so prominent in his history, the changes of his life 
are so sudden, so awful, he vanishes into such darkness, 
the mystery of the tomb is so fearful, all his outward 
possessions are so fleeting, the earth which he treads on 
so insecure, and all surrounding nature subject to such 
fearful revolutions, that the reflective and sensitive mind 
is prone to see Nothingness inscribed on the human be- 

A* "* 



6 INTRODUCTORY REMARKS. 

ing and on all things that are made, and to rise to God 
as the only reality. Another more influential feeling con- 
tributes to the same end. The mind of man, in its pres- 
ent infancy and blindness, is apt to grow servile through 
fear, and seeks to propitiate the Divine Being by flattery 
and self-depreciation. Thus deep are the springs of re- 
ligious error. To admit ail the elements of truth into our 
system, at once to adore the infinity of God and to give 
due importance to our own free moral nature, is no very 
easy work. But it must be done. Man's free activity is 
as important to religion as God's infinity. In the king- 
dom of Heaven, the moral power of the subject is as es- 
sential as the omnipotence of the sovereign. The rights of 
both have the same sacredness. To rob man of his dig- 
nity is as truly to subvert religion, as to strip God of his 
perfection. We muct believe in man's agency as truly 
as in the Divine, in his freedom as truly as in his de- 
pendence, in his individual being as truly as in the great 
doctrine of his living in God. Just as far as the desire 
of exalting the Divinity obscures these conceptions, our 
religion is sublimated into mysticism or degraded into 
servility. 

In the Oriental world, the human mind has tended 
strongly to fix on the idea of the Infinite, the Vast, the 
Incomprehensible. In its speculations it has started 
from God. Swallowed up in his greatness, it has an- 
nihilated the creature. Perfection has been thought 
to lie in self-oblivion, in losing one's self in the Divinity, 
in establishing exclusive communion 'with God. The 
mystic worshipper fled from society to wildernesses, 
where not even nature's beauty might divert the soul from 
the Unseen. Living on roots, sleeping on the rocky 
floor of his cave, he hoped to absorb himself in the One 
and the Infinite. The more the consciousness of the in- 
dividual was lost, and the more the will and the intellect 



INTRODUCTORY REMARKS. ' 

became passive or yielded to the universal soul, the 
more perfect seemed the piety. 

From such views naturally sprung Pantheism. No 
being was at last recognised but God. He was pro- 
nounced the only reality The universe seemed a suc- 
cession of shows, shadows, evanescent manifestations of 
the One, Ineffable Essence. The human spirit was but an 
emanation, soon to be reabsorbed in its source. God, 
it was said, bloomed in the flower, breathed in the wind, 
flowed in the stream, and thought in the human soul. All 
our powers were but movements of one infinite force. 
Under the deceptive spectacle of multiplied individuals 
intent on various ends, there was but one agent. Life, 
with its endless changes, was but the heaving of one and 
the same eternal ocean. 

This mode of thought naturally gave birth or strength 
to that submission to despotic power, which has charac- 
terized the Eastern world. The sovereign, in whom the 
whole power of the state was centred, became an emblem 
of the One, Infinite Power, and was worshipped as its 
representative. An unresisting quietism naturally grew 
out of the contemplation of God as the all-absorbing 
and irresistible energy. Man, a bubble, arising out of 
the ocean of the universal soul, and fated soon to 
vanish in it again, had plainly no destiny to accomplish, 
which could fill him with hope or rouse him to effort. In 
the East the individual was counted nothing. In Greece 
and Rome he was counted much, and he did much. In 
the Greek and the Roman the consciousness of power was 
indeed too little chastened by religious reverence. Their 
gods were men. Their philosophy, though in a measure 
borrowed from or tinctured with the Eastern, still spoke 
of man as his own master, as having an independent 
happiness in the energy of his own will. As far as they 
thus severed themselves from God, they did themselves 
h 



K INTRODUCTORY REMARKS. 

great harm ; but in their recognition, however imper* 
feet, of the grandeur of the soul, lay the secret of their 
vast influence on human affairs. 

In all ages of the church, the tendency of the religious 
mind to the exclusive thought, of God, to the denial or 
forgetfulness of all other existence and power, has come 
forth in various forms. The Catholic church, notwith- 
standing its boasted unity, has teemed with mystics, who 
have sought to lose themselves in God. It would seem 
as if the human mind, cut off by this church from free, 
healthful inquiry, had sought liberty in this vague con- 
templation of the Infinite. In the class, just referred to 3 
were found many noble spirits, especially Fenelon, whose 
quietism, with all its amiableness, we must look on as a 
disease. 

In Protestantism, the same tendency to exalt God and 
annihilate the creature has manifested itself, though in 
less pronounced forms. We see it in Quakerism, and 
Calvinism, the former striving to reduce the soul to si- 
lence, to suspend its action, that in its stillness God alone 
may be heard ; and the latter, making God the only 
power in the universe, and annihilating the free will, that 
one will alone may be done in heaven and on earth. 

Calvinism will complain of being spoken of as an ap- 
proach to Pantheism It will say. that it recognises dis- 
tinct minds from the Divine. But what avails this, if it 
robs these minds of self-determining force, of original 
activity ; if it makes them passive recipients of the Uni- 
versal Force ; if it sees in human action only the neces- 
sarv issues of foreign impulse. The doctrine, that God 
is the onlv Substance, which is pantheism, differs little 
from the doctrine, that God is the only active power of 
the universe. For what is substance without power ? 
[t is a striking fact, that the philosophy, which teaches 
that matter is an inert substance, and that God is the 



INTRODUCTORY REMARKS. 9 

force which pervades it, has led men to question, whether 
any such thing as matter exists ; whether the powers of 
attraction and repulsion, which are regarded as the in- 
dwelling Deity, be not its whole essence. Take away 
force, and substance is a shadow and might as well van- 
ish from the universe. Without a free power in man, 
he is nothing. The divine agent within him is every 
thing. Man acts only in show. He is a phenomenal ex- 
istence, under which the one Infinite power is manifested ; 
and is this much better than Pantheism ? 

One of the greatest of all errors, is the attempt to 
exalt God, by making him the sole cause, the sole agent 
in the universe, by denying to the creature freedom of will 
and moral power, by making man a mere recipient and 
transmitter of a foreign impulse. This, if followed out con- 
sistently, destroys all moral connexion between God and his 
creatures. In aiming to strengthen the physical, it rup- 
tures the moral bond, which holds them together. To extin- 
guish the free will is to strike the conscience with death, 
for both have but one and the same life. It destroys, re- 
sponsibility. It puts out the light of the universe ; it 
makes the universe a machine. It freezes the fountain 
of our moral feelings, of all generous affection and lofty 
aspirations. Pantheism, if it leave man a free agent, is 
a comparatively harmless speculation ; as we see in the 
case of Milton. The denial of moral freedom, could it 
really be believed, would prove the most fatal of errors. 
If Edwards's work on the will could really answer its 
end, if it could thoroughly persuade men that they were 
bound by an irresistible necessity, that their actions were 
fixed links in the chain of destiny, that there was but one 
agent, God, in the universe ; it would be one of the most 
pernicious books ever issued from our press. Happily 
it is a demonstration which no man believes, which the 
whole consciousness contradicts. 



10 INTRODUCTORY REMARKS. 

It is a fact worthy of serious thought and full of solemn 
instruction, that many of the worst errors have grown out 
of the religious tendencies of the mind. So necessary 
is it to keep watch over our whole nature, to subject the 
highest sentiments to the calm, conscientious reason. 
Men starting from the idea of God, have been so dazzled 
by it, as to forget or misinterpret the universe. They 
have come to see in him the only force in creation and in 
other beings only signs, shadows, echoes of this. Ab- 
solute dependence is the only relation to God, which 
they have left to human beings. Our infinitely nobler 
relations, those which spring from the power of free 
obedience to a moral law, their theory dissolves. The 
moral nature, of which freedom is the foundation and 
essence, which confers rights and imposes duties, which is 
the ground of praise and blame, which lies at the founda- 
tion of self-respect, of friendship between man and man, 
of spiritual connexion between man and his maker, which 
is the spring of holy enthusiasm and heavenly aspira- 
tion, which gives to life its interest, to creation its glory, 
this is annihilated by the mistaken piety, which, to exalt 
God, to make him All in All, immolates to him the powers 
of the universe. 

This tendency, as we have seen, gave birth in former 
ages to asceticism, drove some of the noblest men into 
cloisters or caverns, infected them with the fatal notion, 
that there was an hostility between their relations to God 
and their relations to his creatures, and of course per- 
suaded them to make a sacrifice of the latter. To this we 
owe systems of theology degrading human nature, de- 
nying its power and grandeur, breaking it into subjection 
to the priest through whom alone God is supposed to 
approach the abject multitude, and placing human virtue 
in exaggerated humiliations. The idea of God, the grand- 
est of all, and which ought above all to elevate the soul, 



INTRODUCTORY REMARKS. 11 

has too often depressed it and led good minds very far 
astray, a consideration singularly fitted to teach us toler- 
ant views of error, and to enjoin caution and sobriety in 
religious speculation. 

I hope, that I shall not be thought wanting in a just 
tolerance, in the strictures now offered on those systems 
of theology and philosophy, which make God the only 
power in the universe and rob man of his dignity. Among 
the authors of these, may be found some of the greatest 
and best men. To this class belonged Hartley, whose 
work on Man carries indeed the taint of materialism and 
necessity, but still deserves to be reckoned among the 
richest contributions ever made to the science of mind, 
whilst it breathes the profoundest piety. Our own Ed- 
wards was as eminent for religious as for intellectual 
power. The consistency of great error with great virtue 
is one of the lessons of universal history. But error is 
not made harmless by such associations. The false the- 
ories of which I have spoken, though not thoroughly be- 
lieved, have wrought much evil. They have done much, 
\ think, to perpetuate those abject views of human nature, 
Jrhich keep it where it is, which check men's aspirations, 
And reconcile them to their present poor modes of thought 
and action as the fixed unalterable laws of their being. 

Many religious people fall into the error, which I have 
wished to expose, through the belief that they thus glori- 
fy the creator. "The glory of God," they say, "is our 
chief end ; " and this is accomplished as they suppose by 
taking all power from man and transferring all to his 
Maker. We have here an example of the injury done 
by imperfect apprehension and a vague, misty use of 
Scripture language. The " glory of God," is undoubt- 
edly to be our end ; but what does this consist in ? It 
means the shining forth of his perfection in his creation, 
especially in his spiritual offspring ; and it is best pro- 
b* 



12 INTRODUCTORY REMARKS. 

moted by awakening in these their highest faculties, by 
bringing out in ourselves and others the image of God in 
which all are made. An enlightened, disinterested hu- 
man being, morally strong, and exerting a wide influence 
by the power of virtue, is the clearest reflexion of the di- 
vine splendor on earth, and we glorify God in proportion 
as we form ourselves and others after this model. The 
glory of the Maker lies in his work. We do not honor 
him by breaking down the human soul, by connecting it 
with him only by a tie of slavish dependence. By making 
him the author of a mechanical universe, we ascribe to 
him a low kind of agency. It is his glory that he creates 
beings like himself, free beings, not slaves ; that he 
forms them to obedience, not by physical agency, but by 
moral influences ; that he confers on them the reality, not 
the show of power ; and opens to their faith and devout 
strivings a futurity of progress and glory without end. 
It is not by darkening and dishonoring the creature, that 
we honor the creator. Those men glorify God most, who 
look with keen eye and loving heart on his works, who 
catch in all some glimpses of beauty and power, who have 
a spiritual sense for good in its dimmest manifestations, 
and who can so interpret the world, that it becomes a 
bright witness to the divinity. 

To such remarks as these it is commonly objected, that 
we thus obscure, if we do not deny, the doctrine of Entire 
Dependence on God, a doctrine which is believed to be! 
eminently the foundation of religion. But not so. On the 
contrary, the greater the creature, the more extensive is 
his dependence ; the more he has to give thanks for, the 
more he owes to the free gift of his Creator. No matter 
what grandeur or freedom we ascribe to our powers, if we 
maintain, as we ought, that they are bestowed, inspired, 
sustained by God ; that he is their life ; that to him we 
owe all the occasions and spheres of their action and all 



INTRODUCTORY REMARKS. 13 

the helps and incitements by which they are perfected 
On account of their grandeur and freedom they are not 
less his gifts ; and in as far as they are divine, their nat- 
ural tendency is not towards idolatrous self-reliance, but 
towards the grateful, joyful recognition of their adorable 
source. The doctrine of dependence is in no degree im- 
paired by the highest views of the human soul. 

Let me farther observe, that the doctrine of entire de- 
pendence is not, as is often taught, the fundamental doc- 
trine of religion, so that to secure this, all other ideas 
must be renounced. And this needs to be taught, because 
nothing has been more common with theologians than to 
magnify our dependence, at the expense of every thing el- 
evated in our nature. Man has been stripped of free- 
dom, and spoken of as utterly impotent, lest he should 
trench on God's sole, supreme power. To eradicate this 
error, it should be understood, that our dependence is not 
our chief relation to God, and that it is not the ground of 
religion, if by religion we understand the sentiment of 
faith, reverence, and love towards the Divinity. That 
piety may exist, it is not enough to know that God alone 
and constantly sustains all beings. This is not a founda- 
tion for moral feelings towards him. The great question 
on which religion rests, is, What kind of a universe does 
he create and sustain ? Were a being of vast power to 
give birth to a system of unmeasured, unmitigated evil, 
dependence on him would be any thing but a ground of 
reverence. We should hate it, and long to flee from it 
into nonexistence. The great question, I repeat it, is, 
what is the nature, the end, the purpose of the creation 
which God upholds. On this and on the relations growing 
out of this, religion wholly rests. True, we depend on 
the Creator ; and so does the animal ; so does the clod ; 
and were this the only relation, we should be no more 
bound to worship than they. We sustain a grander rela- 



14 INTRODUCTORY REMARKS 

tion, that of rational, moral, free beings to a Spiritual 
Father. We are not mere material substances, subjected 
to an irresistible physical law, or mere animals subjected 
to resistless instincts ; but are souls, on which a moral 
law is written, in which a divine oracle is heard. Take 
away the moral relation of the created spirit to the uni- 
versal spirit, and that of entire dependence would remain 
as it is now ; but no ground, and no capacity of religion 
would remain ; and the splendor of the universe would 
fade away. 

We must start in religion from our own souls. In 
these is the fountain of all divine truth. An outward rev- 
elation is only possible and intelligible, on the ground of 
conceptions and principles, previously furnished by the 
soul. Here is our primitive teacher and light. Let us not 
disparage it. There are, indeed, philosophical schools of 
the present day, which tell us, that we are to start in all 
our speculations from the Absolute, the Infinite. But we 
rise to these conceptions from the contemplation of our 
own nature ; and even if it were not so, of what avail 
would be the notion of an Absolute, Infinite existence, an 
Uncaused Unity, if stripped of all those intellectual and 
moral attributes, which we learn only from our own souls. 
What but a vague shadow, a sounding name, is the met- 
aphysical Deity, the substance without modes, the being 
without properties, the naked unity, which performs such 
a part in some of our philosophical systems. The only 
God, whom our thoughts can rest on, and our hearts can 
cling to, and our consciences can recognise, is the God 
whose image dwells in our own souls. The grand ideas 
of Power, Reason, Wisdom, Love, Rectitude, Holiness, 
Blessedness, that is, of all God's attributes, come from 
within, from the action of our own spiritual nature. Many 
indeed think that they learn God from marks of design 
and skill in the outward world ; but our ideas of design 



INTRODUCTORY REMARKS. 15 

and skill, of a determining cause, of an end or purpose, 
are derived from consciousness, from our own souls. 
Thus the soul is the spring of our knowledge of God. 

These remarks might easily be extended, but these will 
suffice to show, that in insisting on the claims of our na- 
ture to reverence, I have, not given myself to a subject 
of barren speculation. It has intimate connexions with 
religion ; and deep injury to religion has been the conse- 
quence of its neglect. I have also felt and continually 
insisted, that a new reverence for man was essential to 
the cause of social reform. As long as men regard one 
another as they now do, that is as little better than the 
brutes, they will continue to treat one another brutally. 
Each will strive, by craft or skill, to make others his 
tools. There can be no spirit of brotherhood, no true 
peace, any farther than men come to understand their af- 
finity with and relation to God and the infinite purpose 
for which he gave them life. As yet these ideas are 
treated as a kind of spiritual romance ; and the teacher, 
who really expects men to see in themselves and one 
another the children of God, is smiled at as a visionary. 
The reception of this plainest truth of Christianity would 
revolutionize society, and create relations among men not 
dreamed of at the present day. A union would spring up, 
compared with which our present friendships would seem 
estrangements. Men would know the import of the word 
Brother, as yet nothing but a word to multitudes. None 
of us can conceive the change of manners, the new cour- 
tesy and sweetness, the mutual kindness, deference, and 
sympathy, the life and energy of efforts for social meli- 
oration, which are to spring up, in proportion as man 
shall penetrate beneath the body to the spirit, and shall 
learn what the lowest human being is. Then insults, 
wrongs, and oppressions, now hardly thought of, will give 
a deeper shock than we receive from crimes, which the 



16 mTRODUCTORY REMARKS. 

laws punish with death. Then man will be sacred in 
man's sight ; and to injure him will be regarded as open 
hostility toward God. It has been under a deep feeling 
of the intimate connexion of better and juster views of hu- 
man nature with all social and religious progress, that I 
have insisted on it so much in .the following tracts, and I 
hope that the reader will not think that I have given it 
disproportioned importance. 

I proceed to another sentiment, which is expressed so 
habitually in these writings, as to constitute one of their 
characteristics, and which is intimately connected with the 
preceding topic. It is reverence for Liberty, for human 
rights ; a sentiment, which has grown with my growth, 
which is striking deeper root in my age, which seems to 
me a chief element of true love for mankind, and which 
alone fits a man for intercourse with his fellow-creatures. 
I have lost no occasion for expressing my deep attach- 
ment to liberty in all its forms, civil, political, religious, 
to liberty of thought, speech, and the press, and of giving 
utterance to my abhorrence of all the forms of oppression. 
This love of freedom I have not borrowed from Greece 
or Rome. It is not the classical enthusiasm of youth, 
which, by some singular good fortune, has escaped the 
blighting influences of intercourse with the world. Greece 
and Rome are names of little weight to a Christian. 
They are warnings rather than inspirers and guides. My 
reverence for human liberty and rights has grown up in 
a different school, under milder and holier discipline. 
Christianity has taught me to respect my race, and to 
reprobate its oppressors. It is because I have learned to 
regard man under the light of this religion, that I cannot 
bear to see him treated as a brute, insulted, wronged, en- 
slaved, made to wear a yoke, to tremble before his broth- 
er, to serve him as a tool, to hold property and life at his 



INTRODUCTORY REMARKS. 17 

will, to surrender intellect and conscience to the priest, 
or to seal his lips or belie his thoughts through dread of 
the civil power. It is because I have learned the essen- 
tial equality of men before the common Father, that I 
cannot endure to see one man establishing his arbitrary- 
will over another by fraud, or force, or wealth, or rank, 
or superstitious claims. It is because the human being 
has moral powers, because he carries a law in his own 
breast, and was made to govern himself, that I cannot en- 
dure to see him taken out of his own hands and fashioned 
into a tool by another's avarice or pride. It is because I 
see in him a great nature, the divine image, and vast ca- 
pacities, that I demand for him means of self-develope- 
ment, spheres for free action ; that I call society not to 
fetter, but to aid his growth. Without intending to dis- 
parage the outward, temporal advantages of liberty, I 
have habitually regarded it in a higher light, as the birth- 
right of the soul, as the element, in which men are to put 
themselves forth, to become conscious of what they are, 
and to fulfil the end of their being. 

Christianity has joined with all history in inspiring me 
with a peculiar dread and abhorrence of the passion for 
power, for dominion over men. There is nothing in the 
view of our divine teacher so hostile to his divine spirit, 
as the lust of domination. This we are accustomed to re- 
gard as eminently the sin of the Archfiend. "By this sin 
fell the angels," It is the most Satanic of all human 
passions, and it has inflicted more terrible evils on the 
human family than all others. It has made the names of 
king and priest the most appalling in history. There is 
no crime, which has not been perpetrated for the strange 
pleasure of treading men under foot, of fastening chains 
on the body or mind. The strongest ties of nature have 
been rent asunder, her holiest feelings smothered, par- 
ents, children, brothers murdered, to secure dominion 



18 INTRODUCTORY REMARKS. 

over man. The people have now been robbed of the 
necessaries of life, and now driven to the field of slaugh 
ter like flocks of sheep, to make one man the master of 
millions. Through this passion, government, ordained by 
God, to defend the weak against the strong, to exalt 
right above might, has up to this time been the great 
wrong doer. Its crimes throw those of private men into 
the shade. Its murders reduce to insignificance those 
of the bandits, pirates, highwaymen, assassins, against 
whom it undertakes to protect society. How harmless at 
this moment are all the criminals of Europe, compared 
with the Russian power in Poland. This passion for pow- 
er, which in a thousand forms, with a thousand weapons. 
is warring against human liberty, and which Christianity 
condemns as its worst foe, I have never ceased to repro- 
bate with whatever strength of utterance God has given 
me. Power trampling on right, whether in the person 
of king or priest, or in the shape of democracies, major- 
ities and republican slaveholders, is the saddest sight to 
him who honors human nature and desires its enlarge- 
ment and happiness. 

So fearful is the principle of which I have spoken, that 
I have thought it right to recommend restrictions on pow- 
er, and a simplicity in government, beyond what most 
approve. Power, I apprehend, should not be suffered to 
run into great masses. No more of it should be confided 
to rulers, than is absolutely necessary to repress crime 
and preserve public order. A purer age may warrant 
larger trusts ; but the less of government now the better, 
if society be kept in peace. There should exist, if possi- 
ble, no office to madden ambition. There should be no 
public prize tempting enough to convulse a nation. One 
of the tremendous evils of the world, is the monstrous 
accumulation of power in a few hands. Half a dozen 
men may, at this moment, light the fires of war through 



INTRODUCTORY REMARKS. 19 

the world, may convulse all civilized nations, sweep earth 
and sea with armed hosts, spread desolation through the 
fields and bankruptcy through cities, and make them- 
selves felt by some form of suffering through every house- 
hold in Christendom. Has not one politician recently 
caused a large part of Europe to bristle with bayonets ? 
And ought this tremendous power to be lodged in the 
hands of any human being ? Is any man pure enough 
to be trusted with it ? Ought such a prize as this to be 
held out to ambition ? Can we wonder at the shameless 
profligacy, intrigue, and the base sacrifices of public in- 
terests, by which it is sought, and when gained, held fast. 
Undoubtedly great social changes are required to heal 
this evil, to diminish this accumulation of power. Na- 
tional spirit, which is virtual hostility to all countries but 
our own, must yield to a growing humanity, to a new 
knowledge of the spirit of Christ. Another important 
step is, a better comprehension by communities, that gov- 
ernment is at best a rude machinery, which can accom- 
plish but very limited good, and which, when strained to 
accomplish what individuals should do for themselves, is 
sure to be perverted by selfishness to narrow purposes, 
or to defeat through ignorance its own ends. Man is 
too ignorant to govern much, to form vast plans for states 
and empires. Human policy has almost always been in 
conflict with the great laws of social well being ; and the 
less we rely on it the better. The less of power, given 
to man over man, the better. I speak, of course, of 
physical, political force. There is a power which cannot 
be accumulated to excess, I mean moral power, that of 
truth and virtue, the royalty of wisdom and love, of mag- 
nanimity and true religion. This is the guardian of all 
right. It makes those whom it acts on, free. It is might- 
iest when most gentle. In the progress of society this 
c 



20 INTRODUCTORY REMARKS. 

is more and more to supersede the coarse workings of 
government. Force is to fall before it. 

It must not be inferred from these remarks, that I am 
an enemy to all restraint. Restraint in some form or oth- 
er, is an essential law of our nature, a necessary disci- 
pline, running through life, and not to be escaped by any 
art or violence. Where can we go, and not meet it ? 
The powers of nature are, all of them, limits to human 
power. A never-ceasing force of gravity chains us to the 
earth. Mountains, rocks, precipices, and seas forbid our 
advances. If we. come to society, restraints multiply on 
us. Our neighbour's rights limit our own. His property 
is forbidden ground. Usage restricts our free action, 
fixes our manners, and the language we must speak, and 
the modes of pursuing our ends. Business is a restraint, 
setting us wearisome tasks, and driving us through the 
same mechanical routine day after day. Duty is a re- 
straint, imposing curbs on passion, enjoining one course 
and forbidding another, with stern voice, with uncom- 
promising authority. Study is a restraint, compelling us, 
if we would learn any thing, to concentrate the forces of 
thought, and to bridle the caprices of fancy. All law, 
divine or human, is, as the name imports, restraint. No 
one feels more than I do, the need of this element of hu- 
man life. He, who would fly from it, must live in per- 
petual conflict with nature, society, and himself. 

But all this does not prove, that liberty, free action, 
is not an infinite good, and that we should seek and 
guard it with sleepless jealousy. For if we look at the 
various restraints of which I have spoken, we shall see 
that liberty is the end and purpose of all. Nature's pow- 
ers around us hem us in, only to rouse a free powe~ with- 
in us. It acts that we should react. Burdens press on 
us, that the soul's elastic force should come forth. Bounds 
ure set, that we should clear them, The weight, which 



INTRODUCTORY REMARKS. 21 

gravitation fastens to our limbs, incites us to borrow 
speed from winds and steam, and we fly where we seem- 
ed doomed to creep. The sea, which first stopped us, 
becomes the path to a new hemisphere. The sharp 
necessities of life, cold, hunger, pain, which chain man 
to toil, wake up his faculties, and fit him for wider action. 
Duty restrains the passions, only that the nobler faculties 
and affections may have freer play, may ascend to God, 
and embrace all his works. Parents impose restraint, that 
the child may learn to go alone, may outgrow authority. 
Government is ordained, that the rights and freedom of 
each and all may be inviolate. In study thought is con- 
fined, that it may penetrate the depths of truth, may seize 
on the great laws of nature, and take a bolder range. 
Thus freedom, ever-expanding action, is the end of all 
just restraint. Restraint, without this end, is a slavish 
yoke. How often has it broken the young spirit, tamed 
the heart and the intellect, and made social life a stand- 
ing pool. We were made for free action. This alone is 
life, and enters into all that is good and great. Virtue 
is free choice of the right ; love, the free embrace of 
the heart ; grace, the free motion of the limbs ; genius, 
the free, bold flight of thought ; eloquence, its free and 
fervent utterance. Let me add, that social order is better 
preserved by liberty, than by restraint. The latter, unless 
most wisely and justly employed, frets, exasperates, and 
provokes secret resistance ; and still more, it is rendered 
needful very much by that unhappy constitution of society, 
which denies to multitudes the opportunities of free activi- 
ty. A community, which should open a great variety of 
spheres to its members, so that all might find free scope 
for their powers, would need little array of force for re- 
straint. Liberty would prove the best peace-officer. The 
social order of New England, without a soldier and almost 
without a police, bears loud witness to this truth. These 



22 INTRODUCTORY REMARKS. 

views may suffice to explain the frequent recurrence of 
this topic in the following tracts. 

I will advert to one topic more, and do it briefly, that I 
may not extend these remarks beyond reasonable bounds. 
I have written once and again on War, a hackneyed 
subject, as it is called, yet, one would think, too terrible 
ever to become a commonplace. Is this insanity never to 
cease ? At this moment, whilst I write, two of the freest 
and most enlightened nations, having one origin, bound 
together above all others by mutual dependence, by the 
interweaving of interests, are thought by some to be on 
the brink of war. False notions of national honor, as 
false and unholy as those of the duellist, do most toward 
fanning this fire. Great nations, like great boys, place 
their honor in resisting insult and in fighting well. One 
would think, the time had gone by, in which nations need- 
ed to rush to arms, to prove that they were not cowards. 
If there is one truth, which history has taught, it is, that 
communities in all stages of society, from the most bar- 
barous to the most civilized, have sufficient courage. No 
people can charge upon its conscience, that it has not 
shed blood enough in proof of its valor. Almost any 
man, under the usual stimulants of the camp, can stand 
fire. The poor wretch, enlisted from a dram-shop and 
turned in.to the ranks, soon fights like a "hero." Must 
France, and England, and America, after so many hard- 
fought fields, go to war to disprove the charge of wanting 
spirit ? Is it not time, that the point of honor should 
undergo some change, that some glimpses at least of 
the true glory of a nation should be caught by rulers and 
people ? " It is the honor of a man to pass over a trans- 
gression," and so it is of states. To be wronged is no 
disgrace. To bear wrong generously, till every means 
of conciliation is exhausted ; to recoil with manly dread 



INTRODUCTORY REMARKS. 23 

from the slaughter of our fellow-creatures ; to put con- 
fidence in the justice, which other nations will do to our 
motives ; to have that consciousness of courage, which 
will make us scorn the reproach of cowardice ; to feel 
that there is something grander than the virtue of sav- 
ages ; to desire peace for the world as well as ourselves, 
and to shrink from kindling a flame, which may involve 
the world ; these are the principles and feelings, which do 
honor to a people. Has not the time come, when a na- 
tion professing these, may cast itself on the candor of 
mankind ? Must fresh blood flow for ever, to keep clean 
the escutcheon of a nation's glory ? For one, I look on 
war with a horror, which no words can express. I have 
long wanted patience to read of battles. Were the world 
of my mind, no man would fight for glory ; for the name 
of a commander, who has no other claim to respect, sel- 
dom passes my lips, and the want of sympathy drives him 
from my mind. The thought of man, God's immortal 
child, butchered by his brother ; the thought of sea and 
land stained with human blood by human hands, of wo- 
men and children buried under the ruins of besieged 
cities, of the resources of empires and the mighty pow- 
ers of nature all turned by man's malignity into engines 
of torture and destruction ; this thought gives to earth 
the semblance of hell. I shudder as among demons. I 
cannot now, as I once did, talk lightly, thoughtlessly of 
fighting with this or that nation. That nation is no longer 
an abstraction to me. It is no longer a vague mass. It 
spreads out before me into individuals, in a thousand in- 
teresting forms and relations. It consists of husbands 
and wives, parents and children, who love one another as 
I love my own home. It consists of affectionate women 
and sweet children. It consists of Christians, united 
with me to the common Saviour, and in whose spirit 
I reverence the likeness of his divine virtue. It con- 



24 INTRODUCTORY REMARKS. 

sists of a vast multitude of laborers at the plough and in 
the workshop, whose toils I sympathize with, whose bur- 
den I should rejoice to lighten, and for whose elevation I 
have pleaded. It consists of men of science, taste, ge- 
nius, whose writings have beguiled my solitary hours 3 
and given life to my intellect and best affections. Here 
is the nation which I am called to fight with, into„whose 
families I must send mourning, whose fall or humiliation 
I must seek through blood. I cannot do it, without a 
clear commission from God. I love this nation. Its men 
and women are my brothers and sisters. I could not, 
without unutterable pain, thrust a sword into their hearts. 
If, indeed, my country were invaded by hostile armies, 
threatening without disguise its rights, liberties, and dear- 
est interests, I should strive to repel them, just as I 
should repel a criminal, who should enter my house to 
slay what I hold most dear, and what is intrusted to my 
care. But I cannot confound with such a case the com- 
mon instances of war. In general, war is the work of 
ambitious men, whose principles have gained no strength 
from the experience of public life, whose policy is colored 
if not swayed by personal views or party interests, who 
do not seek peace with a single heart, who, to secure 
doubtful rights, perplex the foreign relations of the state, 
spread jealousies at home and abroad, enlist popular pas- 
sions on the side of strife, commit themselves too far for 
retreat, and are then forced to leave to the arbitration of 
the sword, what an impartial umpire could easily have 
arranged. The question of peace and war, is too often 
settled for a country by men, in whom a Christian, a lover 
of his race, can put little or no trust; and at the bidding 
of such men, is he to steep his hands in human blood ? 
But this insanity is passing away. This savageness can- 
aot endure, however hardened to it men are by long use. 



INTRODUCTORY REMARKS. 25 

The hope of waking up some from their lethargy has in- 
duced me to recur to this topic so often in my writings, 

I might name other topics, which occupy a large space 
in the following tracts, hut enough has been said here. 
I will only add, that I submit these volumes to the pub- 
lic with a deep feeling of their imperfections. Indeed, on 
such subjects as God, and Christ, and Duty, and Immor- 
tality, and Perfection, how faint must all human utterance 
be ! In another life, we shall look back on our present 
words as we do on the lispings of our childhood. Still these 
lispings conduct the child to higher speech. Still, amidst 
our weakness, we may learn something, and make pro- 
gress, and quicken one another by free communication. 
We indeed know and teach comparatively little ; but the 
known is not the less true or precious, because there is 
an infinite unknown. Nor ought our ignorance to dis- 
courage us, as if we were left to hopeless skepticism. 
There are great truths, which every honest heart may be 
assured of. There is such a thing, as a serene, immova- 
ble conviction. Faith is a deep want of the soul. We 
have faculties for the spiritual, as truly as for the outward 
world. God, the foundation of all existence, may be- 
come to the mind the most real of all beings. We can 
and do see in virtue an everlasting beauty. The distinc- 
tions of right and wrong, the obligations of goodness and 
justice, the divinity of conscience, the moral connexion 
of the present and future life, the greatness of the char- 
acter of Christ, the ultimate triumphs of truth and love, 
are to multitudes, not probable deductions, but intuitions 
accompanied with the consciousness of certainty. They 
shine with the clear, constant brightness of the lights of 
heaven. The believer feels himself resting on an ever- 
lasting foundation. It is to this power of moral or spirit- 
ual perception, that the following writings are chiefly ad- 



26 INTRODUCTORY REMARKS. 

dressed. I have had testimony, that they have not been 
wholly ineffectual, in leading some minds to a more living 
and unfaltering persuasion of great moral truths. With- 
out this, I should be little desirous to send them out in 
this new form. I trust that they will meet some wants. 
Books which are to pass away, may yet render much ser- 
vice, by their fitness to the intellectual struggles and mor- 
al aspirations of the times in which they are written. If 
in this or in any way I can serve the cause of truth, 
humanity, and religion, I shall regard my labors, as hav- 
ing earned the best recompence which God bestows on 
his creatures. 

W. E. C. 
Boston, April 18th t 1841. 



CHRISTIANITY A RATIONAL RELIGION. 



Romans i. 16 : "I am not ashamed of the Gospel of Christ." 

Such was the language of Paul ; and every man will 
respond to it, who comprehends the character and has 
felt the influence of Christianity. In a former dis- 
course, I proposed to state to you some reasons for 
adopting as our own the words of the Apostle, for join- 
ing in this open and resolute testimony to the gospel 
of Christ. I observed, that I was not ashamed of the 
gospel, first because it is True, and to this topic the 
discourse was devoted. I wish now to continue the 
subject, and to state another ground of undisguised 
and unshaken adherence to Christianity, I say, then, 
I am not ashamed of the gospel of Christ, because it is 
a rational religion. It agrees with reason ; therefore I 
count it worthy of acceptation, therefore I do not blush 
to enrol myself among its friends and advocates. The 
object of the present discourse will be the illustration 
of this claim of Christianity. I wish to show you the 
harmony which subsists between the light of God's 
word, and that primitive light of reason, which he has 
kindled within us to be our perpetual guide. If, in 
treating this subject, I shall come into conflict with any 



28 CHRISTIANITY A RATIONAL RELIGION. 

class of Christians, I trust I shall not be considered 
as imputing to them any moral or intellectual defect. 
I judge men by their motives, dispositions, and lives, 
and not by their speculations or peculiar opinions ; and 
I esteem piety and virtue equally venerable, whether 
found in friend or foe. 

Christianity is a Rational religion. Were it not so, 
I should be ashamed to profess it. I am aware that it 
is the fashion with some to decry reason, and to set up 
revelation as an opposite authority. This error though 
countenanced by good men, and honestly maintained 
for the defence of the Christian cause, ought to be 
earnestly withstood ; for it virtually surrenders our re- 
ligion into the hands of the unbeliever. It saps the 
foundation to strengthen the building. It places our 
religion in hostility to human nature, and gives to its 
adversaries the credit of vindicating the rights and no- 
blest powers of the mind. 

We must never forget that our rational nature is the 
greatest gift of God. For this we owe him our chief 
gratitude. It is a greater gift than any outward aid 
or benefaction, and no doctrine which degrades it can 
come from its Author. The developement of it is the 
end of our being. Revelation is but a means, and is 
designed to concur with nature, providence, and God's 
spirit, in carrying forward reason to its perfection. I 
glory in Christianity because it enlarges, invigorates, 
exalts my rational nature. If I could not be a Chris- 
tian without ceasing to be rational, I should not hesitate 
as to my choice. I feel myself bound to sacrifice to 
Christianity property, reputation, life ; but I ought not 
to sacrifice to any religion, that reason which lifts me 
above the brute and constitutes me a man. 1 can con- 



CHRISTIANITY A RATIONAL RELIGION. 29 

ceive no sacrilege greater than to prostrate or renounce 
the highest faculty which we have derived from God. 
In so doing we should offer violence to the divinity 
within us. Christianity wages no war with reason, but 
is one with it, and is given to be its helper and friend. 

I wish, in the present discourse, to illustrate and 
confirm the views now given. My remarks will be 
arranged under two heads. I propose, first, to show 
that Christianity is founded on, and supposes, the author- 
ity of reason, and cannot therefore oppose it without 
subverting itself. My object in this part of the dis- 
course will be to expose the error of those who hope 
to serve revelation by disparaging reason. I shall then, 
in the second place, compare Christianity and the light 
of reason, to show their accordance ; and shall prove, 
by descending to particulars, that Christianity is emi- 
nently a rational religion. My aim, under this head, 
will be to vindicate the Gospel from the reproaches of 
the unbeliever, and to strengthen the faith and attach- 
ment of its friends. — Before I begin, let me observe 
that this discussion, from the nature of the subject, 
must assume occasionally an abstract form, and will de- 
mand serious attention. I am to speak of Reason, the 
chief faculty of the mind ; and no simplicity of language 
in treating such a topic can exempt the hearer from the 
necessity of patient effort of thought. 

I am to begin with showing that the Christian reve- 
lation is founded on the authority of reason, and con- 
sequently cannot oppose it ; and here it may be proper 
to settle the meaning of the word Reason. One of the 
most important steps towards the truth is to determine 
the import of terms. Very often fierce controversies 
have sprung from obscurity of language, and the parties. 



30 CHRISTIANITY A RATIONAL RELIGION. 

on explaining themselves, have discovered that they 
have been spending their strength in a war of words . 
What, then, is reason ? 

The term Reason is used with so much latitude, 
that to fix its precise limits is not an easy task. In this 
respect it agrees with the other words which express 
the intellectual faculties. One idea, however, is always 
attached to it. All men understand by reason the high- 
est faculty or energy of the mind. Without laboring 
for a philosophical definition that will comprehend all 
its exercises, I shall satisfy myself with pointing out 
two of its principal characteristics or functions. 

First, it belongs to reason to comprehend Univer- 
sal truths. This is among its most important offices. 
There are particular and there are universal truths. 
The last are the noblest, and the capacity of perceiving 
them is the distinction of intelligent beings ; and these 
belong to reason. Let me give my meaning by some 
illustrations. I see a stone falling to the ground. This 
is a particular truth ; but I do not stop here. I believe 
that not only this particular stone falls towards the 
earth, but that every particle of matter, in whatever 
world, tends, or, as is sometimes said, is attracted 
towards all other matter. Here is a universal truth, 
a principle extending to the whole material creation, 
and essential to its existence. This truth belongs tc 
reason. — Again, I see a man producing some effect, f 
manufacture, a house. Here is a particular truth. Bui 
I am not only capable of seeing particular causes and 
effects ; I am sure that every thing which begins to ex- 
ist, no matter when or where, must have a cause, that 
no change ever has taken place or ever will take place 
without a cause. Here is a universal truth, something 



CHRISTIANITY A RATIONAL RELIGION. 31 

true here and everywhere, true now and through eterni- 
ty ; and this truth belongs to reason. — Again, I see with 
my eyes, I traverse with my hands, a limited space ; but 
this is not all. I am sure, that, beyond the limits which 
my limbs or senses reach, there is an unbounded space ; 
that, go where I will, an infinity will spread around me. 
Here is another universal truth, and this belongs to rea- 
son. The idea of Infinity is indeed one of the noblest 
conceptions of this faculty. — Again, I see a man con- 
ferring a good on another. Here is a particular truth or 
perception. But my mind is not confined to this. I 
see and feel that it is right for all intelligent beings, exist 
when or where they may, to do good, and wrong for them 
to seek the misery of others. Here is a universal truth, 
a law extending from God to the lowest human being ; 
and this belongs to reason. I trust I have conveyed to 
you my views in regard to the first characteristic of this 
highest power of the soul. Its office is to discern uni- 
versal truths, great and eternal principles. But it does 
not stop here. Reason is also exercised in applying 
these universal truths to particular cases, beings, events. 
For example, reason teaches me, as we have seen, that 
all changes without exception require a cause ; and in 
conformity to this principle, it prompts me to seek the 
particular causes of the endless changes and appearances 
which fall under my observation. Thus reason is per- 
petually at work on the ideas furnished us by the senses, 
by consciousness, by memory, associating them with its 
own great truths, or investing them with its own univer- 
sality. 

I now proceed to the second function of reason, which 
is indeed akin to the first. Reason is the power which 
tends, and is perpetually striving, to reduce our various 



32 CHRISTIANITY A RATIONAL RELIGION. 

thoughts to Unity or Consistency. Perhaps the most 
fundamental conviction of reason is, that all truths agree 
together ; that inconsistency is the mark of error. Its 
intensest, most earnest effort is to bring concord into the 
intellect, to reconcile what seem to be clashing views. 
On the observation of a new fact, reason strives to incor- 
porate it with former knowledge. It can allow nothing 
to stand separate in the mind. It labors to bring togeth- 
er scattered truths, and to give them the strength and 
beauty of a vital order. Its end and delight is harmony. 
It is shocked by an inconsistency in belief, just as a fine 
ear is wounded by a discord. It carries within itself an 
instinctive consciousness, that all things which exist are 
intimately bound together ; and it cannot rest until it has 
connected whatever we witness with the infinite whole 
Reason, according to this view, is the most glorious form 
or exercise of the intellectual nature. It corresponds to 
the unity of God and the universe, and seeks to make 
the soul the image and mirror of this sublime unity. 

I have thus given my views of reason ; but, to prevent 
all perversion, before I proceed to the main discussion, 
let me offer a word or two more of explanation. In this 
discourse, when I speak of the accordance of revelation 
with reason, I suppose this faculty to be used deliberate- 
ly, conscientiously, and with the love of truth. Men oft- 
en baptize with the name of reason their prejudices, un- 
examined notions, or opinions adopted through interest, 
pride, or other unworthy biasses. It is not uncommon 
to hear those who sacrifice the plainest dictates of the 
rational nature to impulse and passion, setting themselves 
up as oracles of reason. Now when I say revelation 
must accord with reason, I do not mean by the term the 



CHRISTIANITY A RATIONAL RELIGION. 33 

corrupt and superficial opinions of men who have betray- 
ed and debased their rational powers. I mean reason, 
calmly, honestly exercised for the acquisition of truth and 
the invigoration of virtue. 

After these explanations, I proceed to the discussion 
of the two leading principles to which this Discourse is 
devoted. 

First, I am to show that revelation is founded on the 
authority of reason, and cannot therefore oppose or dis- 
parage it without subverting itself. Let me state a few 
of the considerations which convince me of the truth of 
this position. The first fs, that reason alone makes us 
capable of receiving a revelation. It must previously 
exist and operate, or we should be wholly unprepared for 
the communications of Christ. Revelation, then, is built 
on reason. You will see the truth of these remarks if 
you will consider to whom revelation is sent. Why is it 
given to men rather than to brutes ? Why have not 
God's messengers gone to the fields to proclaim his glad 
tidings to bird and beast ? The answer is obvious. 
These want reason ; and, wanting this, they have no ca- 
pacity or preparation for revealed truth. And not only 
would revelation be lost on the brute ; let it speak to the 
child, before his rational faculties have been awakened, 
and before some ideas of duty and his own nature have 
been developed, and it might as well speak to a stone. 
Reason is the preparation and ground of revelation. 

This truth will be still more obvious, if we consider, 
not only to whom, but in what way, the Christian reve- 
lation is communicated. How is it conveyed ? In words. 
Did it make these words ? No. They were in use ages 
before its birth. Again I ask, Did it make the ideas or 
4 



34 CHRISTIANITY A RATIONAL HELIGION. 

thoughts which these words express ? No. If the hear- 
ers of Jesus had not previously attached ideas to the 
terms which he employed, they could not have received 
his meaning. He might as well have spoken to them m 
a foreign tongue. Thus the ideas which enter into 
Christianity subsisted before. They were ideas of rea- 
son ; so that to this faculty revelation owes the materials 
of which it is composed. 

Revelation, we must remember, is not our earliest 
teacher. Man is not born with the single power of 
reading God's word, and sent immediately to that guide. 
His eyes open first on another volume, that of the crea- 
tion. Long before he can read the Bible, he looks 
round on the earth and sky. He reads the countenances 
of his friends, and hears and understands their voices. 
He looks, too, by degrees within himself, and acquires 
some ideas of his own soul. Thus his first school is 
that of nature and reason, and this is necessary to pre- 
pare him for a communication from Heaven. Revelation 
does not find the mind a blank, a void, prepared to re- 
ceive unresistingly whatever may be offered ; but finds it 
in possession of various knowledge from nature and ex- 
perience, and, still more, in possession of great princi- 
ples, fundamental truths, moral ideas, which are derived 
from itself, and which are the germs of all its future im- 
provement. This last view is peculiarly important. The 
mind does not receive every thing from abroad. Its 
great ideas arise from itself, and by those native lights it 
reads and comprehends the volumes of nature and reve- 
lation. We speak, indeed, of nature and revelation as 
making known to us an intelligent First Cause ; but the 
ideas of intelligence and causation we derive originally 
from our own nature. The elements of the idea of God 



CHRISTIANITY A RATIONAL RELIGION. 35 

we gather from ourselves. Power, wisdom, love, virtue, 
beauty, and happiness, words which contain all that is 
glorious in the universe and interesting in our existence, 
express attributes of the mind, and are understood by us 
only through consciousness. It is true, these ideas or 
principles of reason are often obscured by thick clouds, 
and mingled with many and deplorable errors. Still 
they are never lost. Christianity recognises them, is 
built on them, and needs them as its interpreters. If 
an illustration of these views be required, I would point 
you to what may be called the most fundamental idea of 
religion. I mean the idea of right, of duty. Do we 
derive this originally and wholly from sacred books ? 
Has not every human being, whether born within or be- 
yond the bounds of revelation, a sense of the distinction 
between right and wrong ? Is there not an earlier voice 
than revelation, approving or rebuking men according to 
their deeds ? In barbarous ages is not conscience heard ? 
And does it not grow more articulate with the progress 
of society ? Christianity does not create, but presup- 
poses the idea of duty ; and the same may be said of 
other great convictions. Revelation, then, does not stand 
alone, nor is it addressed to a blank and passive mind. 
It was meant to be a joint worker with other teachers, 
with nature, with Providence, with conscience, with our 
rational powers ; and as these all are given us by God, 
they cannot differ from each other. God must agree 
with himself. He has but one voice. It is man who 
speaks with jarring tongues. Nothing but harmony can 
come from the Creator ; and, accordingly, a religion 
claiming to be from God, can give no surer proof of 
falsehood than by contradicting those previous truths 
which God is teaching by our very nature. We have 



36 CHRISTIANITY A RATIONAL RELIGION. 

thus seen that reason prepares us for a divine communi- 
cation, and that it furnishes the ideas or materials of 
which revelation consists. This is my first considera- 
tion. 

I proceed to a second. I affirm, then, that revelation 
rests on the authority of reason, because to this faculty 
it submits the evidences of its truth, and nothing but the 
approving sentence of reason binds us to receive and 
obey it. This is a very weighty consideration. Chris- 
tianity, in placing itself before the tribunal of reason and 
in resting its claims on the sanction of this faculty, is one 
of the chief witnesses to the authority and dignity of our 
rational nature. That I have ascribed to this faculty its 
true and proper office, may be easily made to appear. I 
take the New Testament in hand, and on what ground do 
I receive its truths as divine ? I see nothing on its pages 
but the same letters in which other books are written. 
No miraculous voice from Heaven assures me that it is 
God's word, nor does any mysterious voice within my 
soul command me to believe the supernatural works of 
Christ. How, then, shall I settle the question of the 
origin of this religion ? I must examine it by the same 
rational faculties by which other subjects are tried. 1 
must ask what are its evidences, and I must lay them 
before. reason, the only power by which evidence can be 
weighed. I have not a distinct faculty given me for 
judging a revelation. I have not two understandings, 
one for inquiring into God's word and another into his 
works. As with the same bodily eye I now look on the 
earth, now on the heavens, so with the same power of 
reason I examine now nature, now revelation. Reasoi? 
must collect and weigh the various proofs of Christianity. 
It must, especially compare this system with those great 



CHRISTIANITY A RATIONAL RELIGION. 37 

moral convictions, which are written by the finger of 
God on the heart, and which make man a law to him- 
self. A religion subverting these, it must not hesitate 
to reject, be its evidences what they may. A religion, 
for example, commanding us to hate and injure society, 
reason must instantly discard, without even waiting to 
examine its proofs. From these views we learn, not 
only that it is the province of reason to judge of the truth 
of Christianity, but, what is still more important, that 
the rules or tests by which it judges are of its own dic- 
tation. The laws which it applies in this case have 
their origin in itself. No one will pretend, that revela- 
tion can prescribe the principles by which the question 
of its own truth should be settled ; for, until proved to 
be true, it has no authority. Reason must prescribe 
the tests or standards, to which a professed communi- 
cation from God should be referred ; and among these 
none are more important than that moral law, which 
belongs to the very essence, and is the deepest con- 
viction, of the rational nature. Revelation, then, rests 
on reason, and, in opposing it, would act for its own 
destruction. 

I have given two views. I have shown that revela- 
tion draws its ideas or materials from reason, and that it 
appeals to this power as the judge of its truth. I now 
assert, thirdly, that it rests on the authority of reason, 
because it needs and expects this faculty to be its inter- 
preter, and without this aid would be worse than useless. 
How is the right of interpretation, the real meaning, of 
Scriptures to be ascertained ? I answer, By reason. I 
<mow of no proce'ss by which the true sense of the New 
Testament is to pass from the page into my mind with- 
out the use of my rational faculties. It will not be pre- 
4* D 



38 



CHRISTIANITY A RATIONAL RELIGION. 



tended that this book is so exceedingly plain, its words 
so easy, its sentences so short, its meaning so exposed 
on -the surface, that the whole truth may be received in a 
moment and without any intellectual effort. There is 
no such miraculous simplicity in the Scriptures. In 
truth, no book can be written so simply as to need no 
exercise of reason. Almost every word has more than 
one meaning, and judgment is required to select the 
particular sense intended by the writer. Of all books, 
perhaps the Scriptures need most the use of reason for 
their just interpretation ; and this, not from any imper- 
fection, but from the strength, boldness, and figurative 
character of their style, and from the distance of the 
time when they were written. I open the New Testa- 
ment and my eye lights on this passage ; " If thy hand 
offend thee, cut it off and cast it from thee." Is this 
language to be interpreted in its plainest and most obvi- 
ous sense ? Then I must mutilate my body, and become 
a suicide. I look again, and I find Jesus using these 
words to the Jews ; " Fill ye up the measure of your 
Iniquities." Am I to interpret this according to the 
letter, or the first ideas which it suggests ? Then Jesus 
commanded his hearers to steep themselves in crime, 
and was himself a minister of sin. It is only by a de- 
liberate use of reason, that we can penetrate beneath the 
figurative, hyperbolical, and often obscure style of the 
New Testament, to the real meaning. Let me go to 
the Bible, dismissing my reason and taking the first im- 
pression which the words convey, and there is no ab- 
surdity, however gross, into which I shall not fall. I 
shall ascribe a limited body to God, and unbounded 
knowledge to man, for I read of God having limbs, and 
of man knowing all things. Nothing is plainer, than 



CHRISTIANITY A RATIONAL RELIGION. 39 

that I must compare passage with passage, and limit one 
by another, and especially limit all by those plain and 
universal principles of reason, which are called common 
sense, or I shall make revelation the patron of every 
folly and vice. So essential is reason to the interpreta- 
tion of the Christian records. Revelation rests upon 
its authority. Can it then oppose it, or teach us to hold 
it in light esteem ? 

I have now furnished the proofs of my first position, 
that revelation is founded on reason ; and in discussing 
this, I have wished not only to support the main doc- 
trine, but to teach you to reverence, more perhaps than 
you have done, your rational nature. This has been 
decried by theologians, until men have ceased to feel its 
sacredness and dignity. It ought to be regarded as 
God's greatest gift. It is his image within us. To re- 
nounce it would be to offer a cruel violence to ourselves, 
to take our place among the brutes. Better pluck out 
the eye, better quench the light of the body, than the 
light within us. We all feel, that the loss of reason, 
when produced by disease, is the most terrible calamity 
of life, and we look on a hospital for the insane as the 
receptacle for the most pitiable of our race. But, in 
one view, insanity is not so great an evil as the proctra- 
tion of reason to a religious sect or a religious chief ; for 
the first is a visitation of Providence, the last is a vol- 
untary act, the work of our own hands. 

I am aware, that those who have spoken most con- 
temptuously of human reason, have acted from a good 
motive ; their aim has been to exalt revelation. They 
have thought that by magnifying this as the only means 
of divine teaching, they were adding to its dignity. But 
truth gains nothing by exaggeration ; and Christianity, 



40 CHRISTIANITY A RATIONAL RELIGION. 

as we have seen, is undermined by nothing more effectu- 
ally, than by the sophistry which would bring discredit 
on our rational powers. Revelation needs no such sup- 
port. For myself I do not find, that, to esteem Chris- 
tianity, I must think it the only source of instruction to 
which I must repair. I need not make nature dumb, to 
give power or attraction to the teaching of Christ. The 
last derives new interest and confirmation from its har- 
mony with the first. Christianity would furnish a weap- 
on against itself, not easily repelled, should it claim the 
distinction of being the only light vouchsafed by God to 
men ; for, in that case, it would represent a vast majori- 
ty of the human race as left by their Creator without 
guidance or hope. I believe, and rejoice to believe, 
that a ray from Heaven descends on the path of every 
fellow-creature. The heathen, though in darkness when 
compared with the Christian, has still his light ; and it 
comes from the same source as our own, just as the 
same sun dispenses, now the faint dawn, and now the 
perfect day. Let not nature's teaching be disparaged. 
It is from God as truly as his word. It is sacred, as 
truly as revelation. Both are manifestations of one infi- 
nite mind, and harmonious manifestations ; and without 
this agreement the claims of Christianity could not be 
sustained. 

In offering these remarks, I have not forgotten that 
they will expose me to the reproach of ministering to 
" the pride of reason" ; and I maybe told, that there 
is no worse form of pride than this. The charge is so 
common, as to deserve a moment's attention. It will 
appear at once to be groundless, if you consider, that 
pride finds its chief nourishment and delight in the idea 
of our own superiority. It is built on something pecu« 



CHRISTIANITY A RATIONAL RELIGION. 41 

iar and distinctive, on something which separates us 
from others and raises us above them, and not on pow- 
ers which we share with all around us. Now, in speak- 
ing, as I have done, of the worth and dignity of reason, 
I have constantly regarded and represented this faculty 
33 the common property of all human beings. I have 
spoken of its most important truths as universal and un- 
conflned, such as no individual can monopolize or make 
the grounds of personal distinction or elevation. I have 
given, then, no occasion and furnished no nutriment to 
pride. I know, indeed, that the pride of reason or of 
intellect exists ; but how does it chiefly manifest itself ? 
Not in revering that, rational nature, which all men have 
derived from God ; but in exaggerating our particular 
acquisitions or powers, in magnifying our distinctive 
views, in looking contemptuously on other minds, in 
making ourselves standards for our brethren, in refusing 
new lights, and in attempting to establish dominion over 
the understandings of those who are placed within our 
influence. Such is the most common form of the pride 
of intellect. It is a vice confined to no sect, and per- 
haps will be found to prevail most where it is most dis- 
claimed. 

I doubt not that they who insist so continually on the 
duty of exalting Scripture above reason, consider them- 
selves as particularly secured against the pride of rea- 
son. Yet none, I apprehend, are more open to the 
charge. Such persons are singularly prone to enforce 
their own interpretations of Scripture on others, and to 
see peril and crime in the adoption of different views 
from their own. Now, let me ask, by what power do 
these men interpret revelation ? Is it not by their rea- 
son ? Have they any faculties but the rational ones, by 



42 CHRISTIANITY A RATIONAL RELIGION. 

which to compare Scripture with Scripture, to explain 
figurative language, to form conclusions as to the will of 
God ? Do they not employ on God's word the same 
intellect as on his works ? And are not their interpre- 
tations of both equally results of reason ? It follows, 
that in imposing on others their explications of the 
Scriptures, they as truly arrogate to themselves a supe- 
riority of reason, as if they should require conformity to 
their explanations of nature. Nature and Scripture 
agree in this, that they cannot be understood at a glance. 
Both volumes demand patient investigation, and task all 
our powers of thought. Accordingly it is well known, 
that as much intellectual toil has been spent on theologi- 
cal systems as on the natural sciences ; and unhappily 
it is not less known, that as much intellectual pride has 
been manifested in framing and defending the first as the 
last. I fear, indeed, that this vice has clung with pecu- 
liar obstinacy to the students of revelation. Nowhere, 1 
fear, have men manifested such infatuated trust in their 
own infallibility, such overweening fondness for their own 
conclusions, such positiveness, such impatience of con- 
tradiction, such arrogance towards the advocates of differ- 
ent opinions, as in the interpretation of the Scriptures ; 
and yet these very men, who so idolize their own intel- 
lectual powers, profess to humble reason, and consider a 
criminal reliance on it as almost exclusively chargeable 
on others. The true defence against the pride of rea- 
son, is, not to speak of it contemptuously, but to rever- 
ence it as God's inestimable gift to every human being, 
and as given to all for never-ceasing improvements of 
which we see but the dawn in the present acquisitions 
Hf the noblest mind. 



CHRISTIANITY A RATIONAL RELIGION. 43 

I have now completed my view^s of the first principle, 
which I laid down in this discourse ; namely, that the 
Christian revelation rests on the authority of reason 
Of course, it cannot oppose reason without undermin- 
ing and destroying itself. I maintain, however, that it 
does not oppose, that it perfectly accords with reason. 
it is a rational religion. This is my second great posi- 
tion, and to this I ask your continued attention. This 
topic might easily be extended to a great length. 1 
might state, in succession, all the principles of Chris- 
tianity, and show their accordance with reason. But 
I believe that more general views will be more useful, 
and such only can be given within the compass of a 
discourse. 

In the account which I gave you of reason, in the 
beginning of this discourse, I confined myself to two 
of its functions, namely, its comprehension of universal 
truths, and the effort it constantly makes to reduce the 
thoughts to harmony or consistency. Universality and 
Consistency are among the chief attributes of reason. 
Do we find these in Christianity ? If so, its claim to 
the character of a rational religion will be established. 
These tests I will therefore apply to it, and I will begin 
with Consistency. 

That a religion be rational, nothing more is neces- 
sary than that its truths should consist or agree with 
one another, and with all other truths, whether derived 
from outward nature or our own souls. Now I affirm, 
that the Christian doctrines have this agreement ; and 
the more we examine, the more brightly this mark of 
truth will appear. I go to the Gospel, and I first com- 
pare its various parts with one another. Among these 
[ find perfect harmony ; and what makes this more re- 



44 CHRISTIANITY A RATIONAL RELIGION. 

markabJe is, that Christianity is not taught systemati- 
cally, or like a science. Jesus threw out, if I may so 
speak, his precepts and doctrines incidentally, or as 
they were required by the occasion, and yet, when the} 
are brought together, they form a harmonious whole- 
I do not think it necessary to enlarge on this topic, be- 
cause I believe it is not questioned by infidelity. I will 
name but one example of this harmony in Christianity. 
All its doctrines and all its precepts have that species 
of unity, which is most essential in a religion, thai is 7 
they all tend to one object. They all agree in a single 
aim or purpose, and that is to exalt the human charac- 
ter to a height of virtue never known before. Let the 
skeptic name, if he can, one Christian principle which 
has not a bearing on this end. A consistency of this 
kind is the strongest mark of a rational religion which 
can be conceived. Let me observe, in passing, that 7 
besides this harmony of the Christian doctrines with one 
another, there is a striking and beautiful agreement be- 
tween the teachings of Jesus and his character, which 
gives confirmation to both. Whatever Jesus taught, 
you may see embodied in himself. There is perfect 
unity between the system and its Founder. His life re- 
published what fell from his lips. With his lips he en- 
joined earnestly, constantly a strong and disinterested 
philanthropy ; and how harmoniously and sublimely did 
his cross join with his word in enforcing this exalted 
virtue ! With his lips he taught the mercy of God to 
sinners ; and of this attribute he gave a beautiful illus- 
tration in his own deep interest in the sinful, in his free 
intercourse with the most fallen, and in his patient efforts 
to recover them to virtue and to filial reliance on their 
Father in Heaven. So, his preaching turned much 



CHRISTIANITY A RATIONAL RELIGION. 45 

on the importance of raising the mind above the world ; 
and his own life was a constant renunciation of worldly 
interests, a cheerful endurance of poverty that he might 
make many truly rich. So, his discourses continually 
revealed to man the doctrine of immortality ; and in his 
own person he brought down this truth to men's senses, 
by rising from the dead and ascending to another state 
of being. — I have only glanced at the unity which sub- 
sists between Jesus and his religion. Christianity, from 
every point of view, will be found a harmonious sys- 
tem. It breathes throughout one spirit and one pur- 
pose. Its doctrines, precepts, and examples have the 
consistency of reason. 

But this is not enough. A rational religion must 
agree not only with itself, , but with all other truths, 
whether revealed by the outward creation or our own 
souls. I take, then, Christianity into the creation, I 
place it by the side of nature. Do they agree ? I say, 
Perfectly. I can discover nothing, in what claims to 
be God's word, at variance with his works. This is 
a bright proof of the reasonableness of Christianity. 
When I consult nature with the lights modern science 
affords, I see continually multiplying traces of the doc- 
trine of One God. The more I extend my researches 
into nature, the more I see that it is a whole, the pro- 
duct of one wisdom, power, and goodness. It bears 
witness to one Author, nor has its testimony been 
without effect ; for although the human mind has often 
multiplied its objects of worship, still it has always 
tended towards the doctrine of the divine unity, and 
lias embraced it more and more firmly in the course of 
human improvement. The Heathen, while he erected 
many altars, generally believed in one Supreme Di- 

5 



46 CHRISTIANITY A RATIONAL RELIGION. 

vinity, to whom the inferior deities were subjected and 
from whom they sprung. Need I tell you of the har 
mony which subsists between nature and revelation in 
this particular ? To Christianity belongs the glory of 
having proclaimed this primitive truth with new power, 
and of having spread it over the whole civilized world. 
— Again. Nature gives intimation of another truth, 
I mean of the universal, impartial goodness of God. 
When I look round on the creation, I see nothing to 
lead me to suspect that its Author confines his love to 
a few. The sun sends no brighter beam into the palace 
of the proudest king, than into the hut of the meanest 
peasant. The clouds select not one man's fields rather 
than his neighbour's, but shed down their blessings on 
rich and poor, and, still more, on the just and the unjust. 
True, there is a variety of conditions among men ; but 
this takes place, not by any interposition of God, but by 
fixed and general laws of nature. Impartial, universal 
goodness is the character in which God is revealed by 
his works, when they are properly understood ; and 
need I tell you how brightly this truth shines in the 
pages of Christianity, and how this ' religion has been 
the great means of establishing it among men ? — Again. 
When I look through nature, nothing strikes me more 
than the union which subsists among all its works. 
Nothing stands alone in the creation. The humblest 
plant has intimate connexions with the air, the clouds, 
the sun. Harmony is the great law of nature, and how 
strikingly does Christianity coincide here with God's 
works ; for what is the design of this religion, but to 
bring the human race, the intelligent creation of God. 
into a harmony, union, peace, like that which knits 
together the outward universe ? I will give another 



CHRISTIANITY A RATIONAL RELIGION 47 

illustration. It is one of the great laws of nature, txiat 
good shall come to us through agents of God's appoint- 
ment ; that beings shall receive life, support, knowledge, 
and safety through the interposition and labors and suf- 
ferings of others. Sometimes whole communities are 
rescued from oppression and ruin chiefly by the efforts 
and sacrifices of a wise, disinterested, and resolute in- 
dividual. How accordant with this ordination of nature 
is the doctrine of Christianity, that our Heavenly Fa- 
ther, having purposed our recovery from sin and death, 
has instituted for this end the agency and mediation of 
his Son ; that he has given an illustrious deliverer to 
the world, through whose toils and sufferings we may 
rise to purity and immortal life. — I say, then, that rev- 
elation is consistent with nature, when nature is truly 
interpreted by reason. I see it bringing out with noon- 
day brightness the truths which dawn in nature ; so that 
it is reason in its most perfect form. 

I have thus carried Christianity abroad into nature. 
I now carry it within, and compare it with the human 
soul ; and is it consistent with the great truths of reason 
which I discover there ? I affirm, that it is. When I 
look into the soul, I am at once struck with its immeas- 
urable superiority to the body. I am struck with the 
contrast between these different elements of my nature, 
between this active, soaring mind, and these limbs and 
material organs which tend perpetually to the earth, and 
are soon to be resolved into dust. How consistent is 
Christianity with this inward teaching ! In Christianity, 
with what strength, with what bold relief, is the su- 
premacy of the spiritual nature brought out ! What 
contempt does Jesus cast on the body and its interests, 
when compared with the redemption of the soul ! — 



48 CHRISTIANITY A RATIONAL RELIGION. 

Another great truth dawns on me when I look within. 
I learn more and more, that the great springs of happi- 
ness and misery are in the mind, and that the efforts of 
men to secure peace by other processes than by inward 
purification, are vain strivings ; and Christianity is not 
only consistent with, but founded on, this great truth ; 
teaching us, that the kingdom of heaven is within us, 
and proposing, as its great end, to rescue the mind 
from evil, and to endue it with strength and dignity 
worthy its divine origin. — Again, when I look into the 
soul I meet intimations of another great truth. I dis- 
cern in it capacities which are not fully unfolded here. 
I see desires which find no adequate good on earth. I 
see a principle of hope always pressing forward into 
futurity. Here are marks of a nature not made wholly 
for this world ; and how does Christianity agree with 
this teaching of our own souls ? Its great doctrine is 
that of a higher life, where the spiritual germ within us 
will open for ever, and where the immortal good after 
which the mind aspires will prove a reality. — Had I 
time, I might survey distinctly the various principles of 
the soul, the intellectual, moral, social, and active, and 
might show you how Christianity accords with them all, 
enlarging their scope and energy, proposing to them 
nobler objects, and aiding their developement by the 
impulse of a boundless hope. But, commending these 
topics to your private meditation, I will take but one 
more view of the soul. When I look within, I see 
stains of sin, and fears and forebodings of guilt ; and 
how adapted to such a nature is Christianity, a religion 
which contains blood-sealed promises of forgiveness to 
the penitent, and which proffers heavenly strength to 
fortify us in our conflict with moral evil, — I say, then, 



CHRISTIANITY A RATIONAL RELIGION 49 

Christian! cy consists with The nature within us, as well 
as with nature around us. The highest truths in respect 
to the soul are not only responded to, but are carried 
out by Christianity, so that it deserves to be called the 
perfection of reason. 

I have now shown, in a variety of particulars, that 
Christianity has the character of Consistency, and thus 
satisfies the first demand of reason. It does not divide 
the mind against itself, does not introduce discord into 
the intellect, by proposing doctrines which our con- 
sciousness and experience repel. But these views do 
not exhaust the present topic. It is not enough to 
speak of Christianity as furnishing views which harmo- 
nize with one another, and with all known truth. It 
gives a new and cheering consistency to the views with 
which we are furnished by the universe. Nature and 
providence, with all their beauty, regularity, and be- 
neficence, have yet perplexing aspects. Their elements 
are often seen in conflict with one another. Sunshine 
and storms, pleasure and pain, success and disaster, 
abundance and want, health and sickness, life and death, 
seem to ordinary spectators to be mixed together con- 
fusedly and without aim. Reason desires nothing so 
earnestly, so anxiously, as to solve these discordant 
appearances, as to discover some great, central, recon- 
ciling truth, around which they may be arranged, and 
from which they may borrow light and harmony. This 
deep want of the rational nature, Christianity has sup- 
plied. It has disclosed a unity of purpose in the seem- 
ingly hostile dispensations of providence, and opened 
to the mind a new world of order, beauty, and benevo- 
lent design. Christianity, revealing, as it does, the 
' unbounded mercy of God to his sinful creatures ; re- 
5* e 



50 CHRISTIANITY A RATIONAL RELIGION. 

vealing an endless futurity, in which the inequalities of 
the present state are to be redressed, and which reduces 

by its immensity the sorest pains of life to light and 
momentary evils ; revealing a Moral Perfection, which 
is worth all pain and conflicts, and which is most effect- 
ually and gloriously won amidst suffering and tempta- 
tion ; revealing in Jesus Christ the sublimity and re- 
wards of tried and all-enduring virtue ; revealing in Him 
the founder of a new moral kingdom or power, which 
is destined to subdue the world to God ; and proffering 
the Holy Spirit to all who strive to build up in them- 
selves and others the reign of truth and virtue ; Chris- 
tianity, I say, by these revelations, has poured a flood 
of light over nature and providence, and harmonized the 
infinite complexity of the works and ways of God. 
Thus it meets the first want of the rational nature, the 
craving for consistency of views. It is reason's most 
effectual minister and friend. Is it not, then, eminently 
a Rational Faith ? 

Having shown that Christianity has the character of 
consistency, I proceed to the second mark or stamp of 
reason on a religion, that is, Universality ; and this I 
claim for Christianity. This indeed is one of the most 
distinguishing features of our religion, and so obvious 
and striking as to need little illustration. When I ex- 
amine the doctrines, precepts, and spirit of Christianity, 
1 discover, in them all, this character of Universality. 
I discover nothing narrow, temporary, local. The Gos- 
pel bears the stamp of no particular age or country. 
It does not concern itself with the perishable interests 
of communities or individuals ; but appeals to the Spir- 
itual, Immortal, Unbounded principle in human nature. 
Its aim is to direct the mind to the Infinite Being, and 



CHRISTIANITY A RATIONAL RELIGION. 51 

to an Infinite good. It is not made up, like other re- 
igions, of precise forms and details ; but it inculcates 
immutable and all-comprehending principles of duty, 
leaving every man to apply them for himself to the 
endless variety of human conditions. It separates from 
God the partial, limited views of Judaism and heathen- 
ism, and holds him forth in the sublime attributes of the 
Universal Father. In like manner, it inculcates phi- 
lanthropy without exceptions or bounds ; a love to man 
as man, a love founded on that immortal nature of 
which all men partake, and which binds us to recognise 
in each a child of God and a brother. The spirit of 
bigotry, which confines its charity to a sect, and the 
spirit of aristocracy, which looks on the multitude as an 
inferior race, are alike rebuked by Christianity ; which, 
eighteen hundred year? ago, in a narrow and supersti- 
tious age, taught, what the present age is beginning to 
understand, that all men are essentially equal, and that 
all are to be honored, because made for immortality and 
endued with capacities of ceaseless improvement. The 
more I examine Christianity, the more I am struck with 
its universality. I see in it a religion made for all re- 
gions and all times, for all classes and all stages of so- 
ciety. It is fitted, not to the Asiatic or the European, 
but to the essential principles of human nature, to man 
under the tropical or polar skies, to all descriptions of 
intellect and condition. It speaks a language which all 
men need and all can understand ; enjoins a virtue, 
which is man's happiness and glory in every age and 
clime ; and ministers consolations and hopes which an- 
swer to man's universal lot, to the sufferings, the fear, 
and the self-rebuke, which cleave to our nature in every 
outward change. I see in it the light, not of one na- 



52 CHRISTIANITY A RATIONAL RELIGION. 

lion, but of the world ; and a light reaching beyond the 
world, beyond time, to higher modes of existence and 
to an interminable futurity. Other religions have been 
intended to meet the exigencies of particular countries 
or times, and therefore society in its progress has out- 
grown them ; but Christianity meets more and more the 
wants of the soul in proportion to the advancement of 
our race, and thus proves itself to be Eternal Truth. 
After these remarks, may I not claim for Christianity 
that character of universality which is the highest dis- 
tinction of reason ? To understand fully the confirma- 
tion which these views give to the Gospel, you must 
compare it with the religions prevalent in the age of 
Christ, all of which bore the marks of narrow, local, 
temporary institutions. How striking the contrast ! And 
how singular the fact, that amid this darkness there 
sprung up a religion so consistent and universal, as to 
deserve to be called the perfection of reason ! 

I do and must feel, my friends, that the claim of 
Christianity to the honor of being a rational religion, 
is fully established. As such I commend it to you. 
As such it will more and more approve itself, in pro- 
portion as you study and practise it. You will never 
find cause to complain, that by adopting it you have en* 
slaved or degraded your highest powers. Here, then, 
I might stop, and might consider my work as done. 
But I am aware that objections have been made to the 
rational character of our religion, which may still linger 
in the minds of some of my hearers. A brief notice 
of these may aid the purpose, and will form a proper 
conclusion, of this discourse. 

I imagine that were some who are present to speak, 



CHRISTIANITY A RATIONAL RELIGION. if.) 

ihey would tell me, that if Christianity be judged by its 
fruits, it deserves any character but that of rational. I 
should be told that no religion has borne a more abundant 
harvest of extravagance and fanaticism. I should be told 
that reason is a calm, reflecting, sober principle, and I 
should be asked whether such is the character of the 
Christianity which has overspread the world. Perhaps 
some of you will remind me of the feverish, wild, pas- 
sionate religion, which is now systematically dispersed 
through our country, and I shall be asked whether a sys- 
tem under which such delusions prevail can be a rational 
one. 

To these objections I answer, You say much that is 
true. I grant that reason is a calm and reflecting princi- 
ple, and I see little calmness or reflection among many 
who take exclusively the name of Christ. But I say } 
you have no right to confound Christianity with its pro- 
fessors. This religion, as you know, has come down to 
us through many ages of darkness, during which it must 
have been corrupted and obscured. Common candor 
requires that you should judge of it as it came from its 
Founder. Go, then, to its original records ; place your- 
selves near Jesus ; and tell me if you ever found your- 
selves in the presence of so calm a teacher. We indeed 
discern in Jesus great earnestness, but joined with en- 
tire self-control. Sensibility breathes through his whole 
teaching and life, but always tempered with wisdom. 
Amidst his boldest thoughts and expressions, we discov- 
er no marks of ungoverned feeling or a diseased imagi- 
nation. Take, as an example, his longest discourse, the 
Sermon on the Mount. How weighty the thoughts ! 
How grave and dignified the style ! You recollect, that 
;he multitude were astonished, not at the passionatp 

E* 



54 CHRISTIANITY A RATIONAL RELIGION. 

vehemence, but at the authority, with which he spoke. 
Read next the last discourse of Jesus to his disciples in 
St. John's Gospel. What a deep, yet mild and subdued 
tenderness mingles with conscious greatness in that won- 
derful address. Take what is called the Lord's Prayer, 
which Jesus gave as the model of all prayer to God. 
Does that countenance fanatical fervor, or violent appeals 
to our Creator ? Let me further ask, Does Jesus any- 
where place religion in tumultuous, ungoverned emotion ? 
Does he not teach us, that obedience, not feeling, marks 
and constitutes true piety, and that the most acceptable 
offering to God is to exercise mercy to our fellow-crea- 
tures ? When I compare the clamorous preaching and 
passionate declamation, too common in the Christian 
world, with the composed dignity, the deliberate wis- 
dom, the freedom from all extravagance, which charac- 
terized Jesus, I can imagine no greater contrast ; and I 
am sure that the fiery zealot is no representative of 
Christianity. 

I have done with the first objection ; but another class 
of objections is often urged against the reasonable char- 
acter of our religion. It has been strenuously maintain- 
ed, that Christianity contains particular doctrines which 
are irrational, and which involve the whole religion to 
which they are essential, in their own condemnation. 
To this class of objections I have a short reply. I in- 
sist that these offensive doctrines do not belong to Chris- 
tianity, but are human additions, and therefore do not 
derogate from its reasonableness and truth. What is the 
doctrine most frequently adduced to fix the charge of 
irrationality on the Gospel ? It is the Trinity. This is 
pronounced by the unbeliever a gross offence to reason. 
It teaches that there is one God, and yet that there are 



CHRISTIANITY A RATIONAL RELIGION. 55 

three divine persons. According to the doctrine, these 
three persons perform different offices, and sustain .differ- 
ent relations to each other. One is Father, another his 
Son. One sends, another is sent. They love each 
other, converse with each other, and make a covenant 
with each other ; and yet, with all these distinctions, the} 
are, according to the doctrine, not different beings, but 
one being, one and the same God. Is this a rational 
doctrine ? has often been the question of the objector to 
Christianity. I answer, No. I can as easily believe 
that the whole human race are one man, as that three in- 
finite persons, performing such different offices, are one 
God. But I maintain, that, because the Trinity is irra- 
tional, it does not follow that the same reproach belongs 
to Christianity ; for this doctrine is no part of the Chris- 
tian religion. I know, there are passages which are con- 
tinually quoted in its defence ; but allow me to prove 
doctrines in the same way, that is, by detaching texts 
from their connexion and interpreting them without refer- 
ence to the general current of Scripture, and I can prove 
any thing and every thing from the Bible. I can prove, 
that God has human, passions. I can prove transubstan- 
tiation, which is taught much more explicitly than the 
Trinity. Detached texts prove nothing. Christ is call- 
ed God ; the same title is given to Moses and to rulers. 
Christ has said, "I and my Father are one;" so he 
prayed that all his disciples might be one, meaning not 
one and the same being, but one in affection and purpose. 
I ask you, before you judge on this point, to read the 
Scriptures as a whole, and to inquire into their general 
strain and teaching in regard to Christ. I find him uni- 
formly distinguishing between himself and God, calling 
himself, not God the Son, but the Son of God, contin* 



56 CHRISTIANITY A RATIONAL RELIGION. 

ually speaking of himself as sent by God, continually 
referring his power and miracles to God. I hear him 
saying, that of himself he can do nothing, and praying to 
his Father under the character of the only true God. 
Such I affirm to be the tenor, the current, the general 
strain of the New Testament ; and the scattered pas- 
sages, on which a different doctrine is built, should 
have no weight against this host of witnesses. Do not 
rest your faith on a few texts. Sometimes these favorite 
texts are no part of Scripture. For example, the fa- 
mous passage on which the Trinity mainly rests, " There 
are three that bear record in Heaven, the Father, the 
\Tord, and the Holy Ghost, and these three are one," — 
this text, I say, though found at present in John's Epis- 
tle, and read in our churches, has been pronounced by 
the ablest critics a forgery ; and a vast majority of the 
educated ministers of this country are satisfied, that it is 
not a part of Scripture. Suffer no man, then, to select 
texts for you as decisive of religious controversies. 
Read the whole record for yourselves, and possess your- 
selves of its general import. I am very desirous to sep- 
arate the doctrine in question from Christianity, because 
it fastens the charge of irrationality on the whole religion. 
It is one of the great obstacles to the propagation of the 
Gospel. The Jews will not hear of a Trinity. I have 
seen in the countenance, and heard in the tones of the 
voice, the horror with which that people shrink from the 
doctrine, that God died en the cross. Mahometans, too, 
when they hear this opinion from Christian missionaries, 
repeat the first article of their faith, " There is one 
God • ,? and look with pity or scorn on the disciples of 
Jesus, as deserters of the plainest and greatest truth of 
religion. Even the Indian of our wilderness, who war- 



CHRISTIANITY A RATIONAL RELIGION. 57 

ships the Great Spirit, has charged absurdity on the 
teacher who has gone to indoctrinate him in a Trinity. 
How many, too, in Christian countries, have suspected 
the whole religion for this one error. Believing, then, as 
I do, that it forms no part of Christianity, my allegiance 
to Jesus Christ calls me openly to withstand it. In 
so doing I would wound no man's feelings. I doubt not, 
that they who adopt this doctrine intend, equally with 
those who oppose it, to render homage to the truth and 
service to Christianity. They think that their peculiar 
faith gives new interest to the character and new authority 
to the teaching of Jesus. But they grievously err. The 
views, by which they hope to build up love towards 
Christ, detract from the perfection of his Father ; and I 
fear, that the kind of piety, which prevails now in the 
Christian world, bears witness to the sad influence of 
this obscuration of the true glory of God. We need 
not desert reason or corrupt Christianity, to insure the 
purest, deepest love towards the only true God, or 
towards Jesus Christ, whom he has sent for our re- 
demption. 

I have named one doctrine, which is often urged 
against Christianity as irrational. There is one more on 
which I would offer a few remarks. Christianity has 
often been reproached with teaching, that God brings 
men into life totally depraved, and condemns immense 
multitudes to everlasting misery for sins to which their 
nature has irresistibly impelled them. This is said to be 
irrational, and consequently such must be the religion 
which teaches it. I certainly shall not attempt to vindi- 
cate this theological fiction. A more irrational doctrine 
could not, I think, be contrived ; and it is something 
worse ; it is as immoral in its tendency, as it is unrea- 
6 



58 



CHRISTIANITY A RATIONAL RELIGION. 



sonable. It is suited to alienate men from God and 
from one another. Were it really believed (which it 
cannot be) , men would look up with dread and detesta- 
tion to the Author of their being, and look round with 
horror on their fellow-creatures. It would dissolve so- 
ciety. Were men to see in one another wholly corrupt 
beings, incarnate fiends, without one genuine virtue, so- 
ciety would become as repulsive as a den of lions or a 
nest of vipers. All confidence, esteem, love, would 
die ; and without these, the interest, charm, and worth 
of existence would expire. What a pang would shoot 
through a parent's heart, if he were to see in the smiling 
infant a moral being continually and wholly propense 
to sin, in whose mind were thickly sown the seeds of 
hatred to God and goodness, and who had commenced 
his existence under the curse of his Creator ? What 
good man could consent to be a parent, if his offspring 
were to be born to this infinitely wretched inheritance ? 
I say, the doctrine is of immoral tendency ; but I do not 
say that they who profess it are immoral. The truth is, 
that none do or can hold it in its full and proper import. 
I have seen its advocates smile as benignantly on the 
child whom their creed has made a demon, as if it were 
an angel ; and I have seen them mingling with their fel- 
low-creatures as cordially and confidingly as if the doc- 
trine of total depravity had never entered their ears. 
Perhaps the most mischievous effect of the doctrine is 
the dishonor which it has thrown on Christianity. This 
dishonor I would wipe away. Christianity teaches no 
such doctrine. Where do you find it in the New Tes- 
tament ? Did Jesus teach it, when he took little chil- 
dren in his arms and blessed them, and said " Of such 
is the kingdom of God" ? Did Paul teach it, when 



CHRISTIANITY A RATIONAL RELIGION. 59 

he spoke of the Gentiles, who have not fhe law, or a 
written revelation, but who do by nature the things con- 
tained in the law ? Christainity indeed speaks strongly 
of human guilt, but always treats men as beings who 
have the power of doing right, and who have come into 
existence under the smile of their Creator. 

I have now completed my vindication of the claim of 
the Gospel to the character of a rational religion ; and 
my aim has been, not to serve a party, but the cause of 
our common Christianity. At the present day, one of 
the most urgent duties of its friends is, to rescue it from 
the reproach of waging war with reason. The charac- 
ter of our age demands this. There have been times 
when Christianity, though loaded with unreasonable doc- 
trines, retained its hold on men's faith ; for men had 
not learned to think. They received their religion as 
children learn the catechism ; they substituted the priest 
for their own understandings, and cared neither what 
nor why they believed. But that day is gone by, and 
the spirit of freedom, which has succeeded it, is sub- 
jecting Christianity to a scrutiny more and more severe ; 
and if this religion cannot vindicate itself to the re- 
flecting, the calm, the wise, as a reasonable service, it 
cannot stand. Fanatical sects may, for a time, spread 
an intolerant excitement through a community, and im- 
pose silence on the objections of the skeptical. But 
fanaticism is the epidemic of a season ; it wastes itself by 
its own violence. Sooner or later the voice of reflection 
will be heard. Men will ask, What are the claims of 
Christianity ? Does it bear the marks of truth ? And 
if it be found to war with nature and reason, it will be, 
and it ought to be abandoned. On this ground, I am 
anxious that Christianity should be cleared from all 



60 CHRISTIANITY A RATIONAL RELIGION. 

human additions and corruptions. If indeed irrational 
doctrines belong to it, then I have no desire to separate 
them from it. I have no desire, for the sake of uphold- 
ing the Gospel, to wrap up and conceal, much less to 
deny, any of its real principles. Did I think that it 
was burdened with one irrational doctrine, I would say 
so, and I would leave it, as I found it, with this mill- 
stone round its neck. But I know none such. I meet, 
indeed, some difficulties in the narrative part of the 
New Testament ; and there are arguments in the Epis- 
tles, which, however suited to the Jews, to whom they 
were first addressed, are not apparently adapted to men 
at large ; but I see not a principle of the religion, which 
my reason, calmly and impartially exercised, pronoun- 
ces inconsistent with any great truth. I have the strong- 
est conviction, that Christianity is reason in its most 
perfect form, and therefore I plead for its disengagement 
from the irrational additions with which it has been 
clogged for ages. 

With these views of Christianity, I do and I must 
hold it fast. I cannot surrender it to the cavils or scoffs 
of infidelity. I do not blush to own it, for it is 'a ra- 
tional religion. It satisfies the wants of the intellect as 
well as those of the heart. I know that men of strong 
minds have opposed it. But, as if Providence intended 
that their sophistry should carry a refutation on its own 
front, they have generally fallen into errors so gross 
and degrading, as to prove them to be any thing rather 
than the apostles of reason. When I go from the study 
of Christianity to their writings, I feel as if I were 
passing from the warm, bright sun into a chilling twi- 
light, which too often deepens into utter darkness. I 
am not, then, ashamed of the Gospel. I see it glori- 



CHRISTIANITY A RATIONAL RELIGION. 61 

fied by the hostile systems which are reared for its de- 
struction. I follow Jesus, because he is eminently u the 
Light " ; and I doubt not, that, to his true disciples, he 
will be a guide to that world, where the obscurities of 
our present state will be dispersed, and where reason as 
well as virtue will be unfolded under the quickening in- 
fluence and in the more manifest presence of God. 
6* 



THE 



EVIDENCES OF REVEALED RELIGION. 



DISCOURSE 

/ 



BEFORE THE 

UNIVERSITY IN CAMBRIDGE, AT THE DUDLEIAN LECTURE, 
14th March, 1821. 



John iii. 2: "The same came to Jesus by night, and said unto 
him, Rabbi, we know that thou art a teacher come from God ; 
for no mau can do these miracles that thou doest, except God 
be with him." 

The evidences of revealed religion are the subject of 
this lecture, a subject of great extent, as well as of 
vast importance. In discussing it, an immense variety 
of learning has been employed, and all the powers of 
the intellect been called forth. History, metaphysics, 
ancient learning, criticism, ethical science, and the sci- 
ence of human nature, have been summoned to the 
controversy, and have brought important contributions 
to the Christian cause. To condense into one discourse 
what scholars and great men have written on this point, 
is impossible, even if it were desirable ; and I have 
stated the extent of speculation into which our subject 
has led, not because I propose to give an abstract oi 
others' labors, but because I wish you to understand. 



64 THE EVIDENCES OF 

that the topic is one not easily despatched, and because 
I would invite ycu to follow me in a discussion, which 
will require concentrated and continued attention. A 
subject more worthy of attention, than the claims of 
that religion which was impressed on our childhood 5 
and which is acknowledged to be the only firm founda- 
tion of the hope of immortality, cannot be presented ; 
and our minds must want the ordinary seriousness of 
human nature, if it cannot arrest us. 

That Christianity has been opposed, is a fact, implied 
in the establishment of this lecture. That it has had 
adversaries of no mean intellect, you know. I propose 
in this discourse to make some remarks on what seems 
to me the great objection to Christianity, on the general 
principle on which its evidences rest, and on some of 
its particular evidences. 

The great objection to Christianity, the only one 
which has much influence at the present day, meets us 
at the very threshold. We cannot, if we would, evade 
t, for it is founded on a primary and essential attribute 
2)f this religion. The objection is oftener felt than ex- 
pressed, and amounts to this, that miracles are incredi- 
ble, and that the supernatural character of an alleged 
fact is proof enough of its falsehood. So strong is this 
propensity to doubt of departures from the order of 
nature, that there are sincere Christians, who incline to 
rest their religion wholly on its internal evidence, and 
to overlook the outward extraordinary interposition of 
God, by which it was at first established. But the 
difficulty cannot in this way be evaded ; for Christianity 
is not only confirmed by miracles, but is in itself, in its 
very essence, a miraculous religion. It is not a system 



REVEALED RELIGION. 6$ 

which the human mind might have gathered, in the or- 
dinary exercise of its powers, from the ordinary course 
of nature. Its doctrines, especially those which relate 
to its founder, claim for it the distinction of being a 
supernatural provision for the recovery of the human 
race. So that the objection which I have stated still 
presses upon us, and, if it be well grounded, it is fatal 
to Christianity. 

It is proper, then, to begin the discussion with inquir- 
ing, whence the disposition to discredit miracles springs, 
and how far it is rational. A preliminary remark of 
some importance is, that this disposition is not a neces- 
sary part or principle of our mental constitution, like 
the disposition to trace effects to adequate causes. We 
are indeed so framed, as to expect a continuance of 
that order of nature which we have uniformly experi- 
enced ; but not so framed as to revolt at alleged viola- 
tions of that order, and to account them impossible 
or absurd. On the contrary, men at large discover a 
strong and incurable propensity to believe in miracles. 
Almost all histories, until within the two last centuries, 
reported seriously supernatural facts. x Skepticism as 
to miracles is comparatively a new thing, if we except 
the Epicurean or Atheistical sect among the ancients ; 
and so far from being founded in human nature, it is 
resisted by an almost infinite preponderance of belief 
on the other side. 

Whence, then, has this skepticism sprung ? It may 
be explained by two principal causes. 1. It is now an 
acknowledged fact, among enlightened men, that in past 
times and in our own, a strong disposition has existed 
and still exists to admit miracles without examination. 
Human credulity is found to have devoured nothing 

F* 



66 THE EVIDENCES OP 

more eagerly than reports of prodigies. Now it is ar» 
gued, that we discover here a principle of human nature? 
namely, the love of the supernatural and marvellous, 
which accounts sufficiently for the belief of miracles, 
wherever we find it ; and that it is, consequently, un- 
necessary and unphilosophical to seek for other causes, 
and especially to admit that most improbable one, the 
actual existence of miracles. This sweeping conclu- 
sion is a specimen of that rash habit of generalizing, 
which rather distinguishes our times, and shows thai 
philosophical reasoning has made fewer advances than 
we are apt to boast. It is true, that there is a principle 
of credulity as to prodigies in a considerable part of 
society, a disposition to believe without due scrutiny. 
But this principle, like every other in our nature, has its 
limits ; acts according to fixed laws ; is not omnipotent, 
cannot make the eyes see, and the ears hear, and the 
understanding credit delusions, under all imaginable cir- 
cumstances ; but requires the concurrence of various 
circumstances and of other principles of our nature in 
order to its operation. For example, the belief of 
spectral appearances has been very common ; but under 
what circumstances and in what state of mind has it 
occurred 1 Do men see ghosts in broad day, and amidst 
cheerful society ? Or in solitary places ; in grave-yards ; 
in twilights or mists, where outward objects are so un- 
defined, as easily to take a form from imagination ; and 
in other circumstances favorable to terror, and associated 
with the delusion in question ? The principle of cre- 
dulity is as regular in its operation, as any other principle 
of the mind ; and is so dependent on circumstances and 
so restrained and checked by other parts of human na- 
ture, that sometimes the most obstinate incredulity is 



REVEALED RELIGION. 67 

found in that very class of people, whose easy belief on 
other occasions moves our contempt. It is well known, 
for example, that the efficacy of the vaccine inocula- 
tion has been encountered with much more unyielding 
skepticism among the vulgar, than among the improved ; 
and in general, it may be affirmed, that the credulity 
of the ignorant operates under the control of their 
strongest passions and impressions, and that no class of 
society yield a slower assent to positions, which mani- 
festly subvert their old modes of thinking and most set- 
tled prejudices. It is, then, very unphilosophical to as- 
sume this principle as an explanation of all miracles 
whatever. I grant that the fact, that accounts of super- 
natural agency so generally prove false, is a reason for 
looking upon them with peculiar distrust. Miracles 
ought on this account to be sifted more than common 
facts. But if we find, that a belief in a series of super- 
natural works, has occurred under circumstances very 
different from those under which false prodigies have 
been received, under circumstances most unfavorable 
to the operation of credulity ; then this belief cannot be 
resolved into the common causes, which have blinded 
men in regard to supernatural agency. We must look 
for other causes, and if none can be found but the 
actual existence of the miracles, then true philosophy 
binds us to believe them. I close this head with ob 
serving, that the propensity of men to believe in what 
is strange and miraculous, though a presumption against 
particular miracles, is not a presumption against miracles 
universally, but rather the reverse ; for great principles 
■of human nature have generally a foundation in truth, 
and one explanation of this propensity so common to 
mankind is obviously this, that in the earlier ages of the 

10 



68 THE EVIDENCES OF 

human race, miraculous interpositions, suited to man's 
infant state, were not uncommon, and, being the most 
striking facts of human history, they spread through ail 
future times a belief and expectation of miracles. 

I proceed now to the second cause of the skepticism 
in regard to supernatural agency, which has grown up, 
especially among the more improved, in later times. 
These later times are distinguished, as you well know, 
by successful researches into nature ; and the discov- 
eries of science have continually added strength to that 
great principle, that the phenomena of the universe are 
regulated by general and permanent laws, or that the 
Author of the universe exerts his power according to an 
established order. -Nature, the more it is explored, is 
found to be uniform. We observe an unbroken succes- 
sion of causes and effects. Many phenomena, once de- 
nominated irregular, and ascribed to supernatural agency, 
are found to be connected with preceding circumstances, 
as regularly as the most common events. The comet, 
we learn, observes the same attraction as the sun and 
planets. When a new phenomenon now occurs, no one 
thinks it miraculous, but believes, that, when better un- 
derstood, it may be reduced to laws already known, or 
is an example of a law not yet investigated. 

Now this increasing acquaintance with the uniformity 
of nature begets a distrust of alleged violations of it, 
and a rational distrust too ; for, while many causes of 
mistake in regard to alleged miracles may be assigned, 
there is but one adequate cause of real miracles, that is, 
the power of God ; and the regularity of nature forms a 
strong presumption against the miraculous exertion of 
this power, except in extraordinary circumstances, and 
for extraordinary purposes, to which the established laws 



REVEALED RELIGION. 69 

of the creation are not competent. But the observation 
of the uniformity of nature produces, in multitudes, not 
merely this rational distrust of alleged violations of it, 
but a secret feeling, as if such violations were impos- 
sible. That attention to the powers of nature, which is 
implied in scientific research, tends to weaken the prac- 
tical conviction of a higher power ; and the laws of the 
creation, instead of being regarded as the modes of Di- 
vine operation, come insensibly to be considered as 
fetters on his agency, as too sacred to be suspended 
even by their Author. This secret feeling, essentially 
atheistical, and at war with all sound philosophy, is the 
chief foundation of that skepticism, which prevails in 
regard to miraculous agency, and deserves our particular 
consideration. 

To a man whose belief in God is strong and practical, 
a miracle will appear as possible as any other effect, as 
the most common event in life ; and the argument against 
miracles, drawn from the uniformity of nature, will weigh 
with him, only as far as this uniformity is a pledge and 
proof of the Creator's disposition to accomplish his pur- 
poses by a fixed order or mode of operation. Now it is 
freely granted, that the Creator's regard or attachment 
to such an order may be inferred from the steadiness 
with which he observes it ; and a strong presumption 
lies against any violation of it on slight occasions, or for 
purposes to which the established laws of nature are ade- 
quate. But this is the utmost which the order of nature 
authorizes us to infer respecting its Author. It forms 
no presumption against miracles universally, in all ima- 
ginable cases ; but may even furnish a presumption in 
their favor. 

We are never to forget, that God's adherence to the 



70 THE EVIDENCES OF 

order of the universe is not necessary and mechanical, 
but intelligent and voluntary. He adheres to it, not for 
its own sake, or because it has a sacredness which com- 
pels him to respect it, but because it is most suited to 
accomplish his purposes. It is a means, and not an 
end ; and, like all other means, must give way when 
the end can best be promoted without it. It is the mark 
of a weak mind, to make an idol of order and method ; 
to cling to established forms of business, when they clog 
instead of advancing it. If, then, the great purposes of 
the universe can best be accomplished by departing from 
its established laws, these laws will undoubtedly be sus- 
pended ; and, though broken in the letter, they will be 
observed in their spirit, for the ends for which they were 
first instituted will be advanced by their violation. Now 
the question arises, For what purposes were nature and 
its order appointed ? and there is no presumption in 
saying, that the highest of these is the improvement of 
intelligent beings. Mind (by which we mean both moral 
and intellectual powers) is God's first end. The great 
purpose for which an order of nature is fixed, is plainly 
the formation of Mind. In a creation without order, 
where events would follow without any regular succes- 
sion, it is obvious, that Mind must be kept in perpetual 
infancy ; for, in such a universe, there could be no rea- 
soning from effects to causes, no induction to establish 
general truths, no adaptation of means to ends ; that is, 
no science relating to God, or matter, or mind ; no ac- 
tion ; no virtue. The great purpose of God, then, I 
repeat it, in establishing the order of nature, is to form 
and advance the mind ; and if the case should occur, in 
which the interests of the mind could best be advanced 
by departing from this order, or by miraculous agency, 



REVEALED RELIGION. 71 

then the great purpose of the creation, the great end of 
its laws and regularity, would demand such departure ; 
and miracles, instead of warring against, would concur 
with nature. 

Now, we Christians maintain, that such a case has 
existed. We affirm, that, when Jesus Christ came into 
the world, nature had failed to communicate instructions 
to men, in which, as intelligent beings, they had the 
deepest concern, and on which the full developement of 
their highest faculties essentially depended ; and we 
affirm, that there was no prospect of relief from nature ; 
so that an exigence had occurred, in which additional 
communications, supernatural lights, might rationally be 
expected from the Father of spirits. Let me state two 
particulars, out of many, in , which men needed intel- 
lectual aids not given by nature. I refer to the doctrine 
of one God and Father, on which all piety rests ; and 
to the doctrine of Immortality, which is the great spring 
of virtuous effort. Had I time to enlarge on the history 
of that period, I might show you under what heaps of 
rubbish and superstition these doctrines were buried. 
But I should repeat only what you know familiarly. 
The works of ancient genius, which form your studies, 
carry on their front the brand of polytheism, and of de- 
basing error on subjects of the first and deepest concern. 
It is more important to observe, that the very uniformity 
of nature had some tendency to obscure the doctrines 
which I have named, or at least to impair their practical 
power, so that a departure from this uniformity was 
needed to fasten them on men's minds. 

That a fixed order of nature, though a proof of the 
One God to reflecting and enlarged understandings, has 
yet a tendency to hide him from men in general, will 
10*= 



72 TflE EVIDENCES OF 

appear, if we consider, first, that, as the human mind is 
constituted, what is regular and of constant occurrence, 
excites it feebly ; and benefits flowing to it through 
fixed, unchanging laws, seem to come by a kind of ne- 
cessity, and are apt to be traced up to natural causes 
alone. Accordingly, religious convictions and feelings, 
even in the present advanced condition of society, are 
excited, not so much by the ordinary course of God's 
providence, as by sudden, unexpected events, which 
rouse and startle the mind, and speak of a power higher 
than nature. — There is another way, in which a fixed 
order of nature seems unfavorable to just impressions 
respecting its Author. It discovers to us in the Creator, 
a regard to general good rather than an affection to indi- 
viduals. The laws of nature, operating, as they do, 
with an inflexible steadiness, never varying to meet the 
cases and wants of individuals, and inflicting much pri- 
vate suffering in their stern administration for the general 
weal, give the idea of a distant, reserved sovereign, much 
more than of a tender parent ; and yet this last view of 
God is the only effectual security from superstition and 
idolatry. Nature, then, we fear, would not have brought 
back the world to its Creator. — And as to the doctrine 
of Immortality, the order of the natural world had little 
tendency to teach this, at least with clearness and energy. 
The natural world contains no provisions or arrange- 
ments for reviving the dead. The sun and the rain, 
which cover the tomb with verdure, send no vital influ- 
ences to the mouldering body. The researches of sci- 
ence detect no secret processes for restoring the lost 
powers of life. If man is to live again, he is not to live 
through any known laws of nature, but by a power higher 
than nature ; and how, then, can we be assured of this 



REVEALED RELIGION. 73 

truth, but by a manifestation of this power, that is, by 
miraculous agency, confirming a future life ? 

I have labored in these remarks to show, that the uni- 
formity of nature is no presumption against miraculous 
agency, when employed in confirmation of such a reli- 
gion as Christianity. Nature, on the contrary, furnish- 
es a presumption in its favor. Nature clearly shows to 
us a power above itself, so that it proves miracles to 
be possible. Nature reveals purposes and attributes in 
its Author, with which Christianity remarkably agrees. 
Nature too has deficiencies, which show that it was not 
intended by its Author to be his whole method of in- 
structing mankind ; and in this way it gives great con- 
firmation to Christianity, which meets its wants, supplies 
its chasms, explains its mysteries, and lightens its heart- 
oppressing cares and sorrows. 

Before quitting the general consideration of miracles, 
I ought to take some notice of Hume's celebrated ar- 
gument on this subject ; not that it merits the attention 
which it has received, but because it is specious, and 
has derived weight from the name of its author. The 
argument is briefly this, — " that belief is founded upon 
and regulated by experience. Now we often experience 
testimony to be false, but never witness a departure from 
the order of nature. That men may deceive us when 
they testify to miracles, is therefore more accordant with 
experience, than that nature should be irregular ; and 
hence there is a balance of proof against miracles, a 
presumption so strong as to outweigh the strongest testi- 
mony. " The usual replies to this argument I have not 
time to repeat. Dr. Campbell's work, which is acces- 
sible to all, will show you that it rests on an equivocal 
use of terms, and will furnish you with many fine re- 

G 



74 



THE EVIDENCES OF 



marks on testimony and on the conditions or qualities 
which give it validity. I will only add a few remarks 
which seem to me worthy of attention. 

1. This argument affirms, that the credibility of facts 
or statements is to be decided by their accordance with 
the established order of nature, and by this standard 
only. Now, if nature comprehended all existences and 
all powers, this position might be admitted. But if 
there is a Being higher than nature, the origin of all its 
powers and motions, and whose character falls under 
our notice and experience as truly as the creation, then 
there is an additional standard to which facts and state- 
ments are to be referred ; and works which violate na- 
ture's order, will still be credible, if they agree with the 
known properties and attributes of its author ; because 
for such works we can assign an adequate cause and 
sufficient reasons, and these are the qualities and condi- 
tions on which credibility depends. 

2. This argument of Hume proves too much, and 
therefore proves nothing. It proves too much ; for if 1 
am to reject the strongest testimony to miracles, because 
testimony has often deceived me, whilst nature's order 
has never been found to fail, then I ought to reject a 
miracle, even if I should see it with my own eyes, and 
if all my senses should attest it ; for all my senses have 
sometimes given false reports, whilst nature has never 
gone astray ; and, therefore, be the circumstances ever 
so decisive or inconsistent with deception, still I must 
not believe what T see, and hear, and touch, what my 
senses, exercised according to the most deliberate judg- 
ment, declare to be true. All this the argument re- 
quires ; and it proves too much ; for disbelief, in the 
case supposed, is out of our power, and is instinctively 



REVEALED RELIGION. 75 

pronounced absurd ; and what is more, it would subvert 
that very order of nature on which the argument rests ; 
for this order of nature is learned only by the exercise 
of my senses and judgment, and if these fail me, in the 
most unexceptionable circumstances, then their testi- 
mony to nature is of little worth. 

Once more ; this argument is built on an ignorance 
of the nature of testimony. Testimony, we are told, 
cannot prove a miracle. Now the truth is, that testi- 
mony of itself and immediately, proves no facts what- 
ever, not even the most common. Testimony can do 
nothing more than show us the state of another's mind 
in regard to a given fact. It can only show us, that 
the testifier has a belief, a conviction, that a certain phe- 
nomenon or event has occurred. Here testimony stops ; 
and the reality of the event is to be judged altogether 
from the nature and degree of this conviction, and from 
the circumstances under which it exists. This convic- 
tion is an effect, which must have a cause, and needs 
to be explained ; and if no cause can be found but the 
real occurrence of the event, then this occurrence is 
admitted as true. Such is the extent of testimony. 
Now a man, who affirms a miraculous phenomenon or 
event, may give us just as decisive proofs, by his char- 
acter and conduct, of the strength and depth of his con- 
viction, as if he were affirming a common occurrence. 
Testimony, then, does just as much in the case of mira- 
cles, as of common events ; that is, it discloses to us 
the conviction of another's mind. Now this conviction 
in the case of miracles requires a cause, an explanation, 
as much as in every other; and if the circumstances be 
such, that it could not have sprung up and been estab 
lished but by the reality of the alleged miracle, then that 



76 THE EVIDENCES OF 

great and fundamental principle of human belief, name- 
ly, that every effect must have a cause, compels us to 
admit the miracle. 

It may be observed of Hume and of other philosophi- 
cal opposers of our religion, that they are much more 
inclined to argue against miracles in general, than against 
the particular miracles on which Christianity rests. And 
the reason is obvious. Miracles, when considered in a 
general, abstract manner, that is, when divested of all 
circumstances, and supposed to occur as disconnected 
facts, to stand alone in history, to have no explanations 
or reasons in preceding events, and no influence on 
those which follow, are indeed open to great objection, 
as wanton and useless violations of nature's order ; and 
it is accordingly against miracles, considered in this 
naked, general form, that the arguments of infidelity are 
chiefly urged. But it is great disingenuity to class un- 
der this head the miracles of Christianity. They are 
palpably different. They do not stand alone in history ; 
but are most intimately incorporated with it. They 
were demanded by the state of the world which pre- 
ceded them, and they have left deep traces on all sub- 
sequent ages. In fact, the history of the whole civil- 
ized world, since their alleged occurrence, has heen 
swayed and colored by them, and is wholly inexplicable 
without them. Now, such miracles are not to be met 
and disposed of by general reasonings, which apply only 
to insulated, unimportant, uninfluential prodigies. 

I have thus considered the objections to miracles in 
general ; and I would close this head with observing, 
that these objections will lose their weight, just m pro- 
portion as we strengthen our conviction of God's power 
over nature and of his parental interest in his creatures. 



REVEALED RELIGION. 77 

The great repugnance to the belief of miraculous agency 
is founded in a lurking atheism, which ascribes suprema- 
cy to nature, and which, whilst it professes to believe 
in God, questions his tender concern for the improve- 
ment of men. To a man, who cherishes a sense of 
God, the great, difficulty is, not to account for miracles, 
but to account for their rare occurrence. One of the 
mysteries of the universe is this, that its Author re- 
tires so continually behind the veil of his works, that 
the great and good Father does not manifest himself 
more distinctly to his creatures. There is something 
like coldness and repulsiveness in instructing us only 
by fixed, inflexible laws of nature. The intercourse of 
God with Adam and the patriarchs suits our best con- 
ceptions of the relation which he bears to the human 
race, and ought not to surprise us more, than the ex- 
pression of a human parent's tenderness and concern 
towards his offspring. 

After the remarks now made to remove the objection 
to revelation in general, I proceed to consider the evi- 
dences of the Christian religion in particular ; and these 
are so numerous, that should I attempt to compress 
them into the short space which now remains, I could 
give but a syllabus, a dry and uninteresting index. It 
will be more useful to state to you, with some distinct- 
ness, the general principle into which all Christian 
evidences may be resolved, and on which the whole 
religion rests, and then to illustrate it in a few striking 
particulars. 

All the evidences of Christianity may be traced to 
this great principle, — that every effect must have an 
adequate cause. We claim for our religion a divine 



78 THE EVIDENCES OF 

original, because no adequate cause for it can be found 
in the powers or passions of human nature, or in the 
circumstances under which it appeared ; because it cap 
only be accounted for by the interposition of that Being, 
to whom its first preachers universally ascribed it, and 
with whose nature it perfectly agrees. 

Christianity, by which we mean not merely the doc- 
trines of the religion, but every thing relating to it, its 
rise, its progress, the character of its author, the con- 
duct of its propagators, — Christianity, in this broad 
sense, can only be accounted for in two ways. It either 
sprung from the principles of human nature, under the 
excitements, motives, impulses of the age in which it 
was first preached ; or it had its origin in a higher and 
supernatural agency. To which of these causes the 
religion should be referred, is not a question beyond 
our reach ; for being partakers of human nature, and 
knowing more of it than of any other part of creation, 
we can judge with sufficient accuracy of the operation 
of its principles, and of the effects to which they are 
competent. It is indeed true, that human powers are 
not exactly defined, nor can we state precisely the 
bounds beyond which they cannot pass ; but still, the 
disproportion between human nature and an effect as- 
cribed to it, may be so vast and palpable, as to satisfy 
us at once, that the effect is inexplicable by human 
power. I know not precisely what advances may be 
made by the intellect of an unassisted savage ; but that a 
savage in the woods could not compose the "Principia" 
of Newton, is about as plain as that he could not cre- 
ate the world. I know not the point at which bodily 
strength must stop ; but that a man cannot carry Atlas 
or Andes on his shoulders, is a safe position. The 



ftEVEALED RELIGION. 79 

question, therefore, whether the principles of human 
nature, under the circumstances in which it was placed 
at Christ's birth, will explain his religion, is one to 
which we are competent, and is the great question on 
which the whole controversy turns. 

Now we maintain, that a great variety of facts be- 
longing to this religion, — such as the character of its 
Founder ; its peculiar principles ; the style and char- 
acter of its records ; its progress; the conduct, circum- 
stances, and sufferings of its first propagators ; the re- 
ception of it from the first on the ground of miraculous 
attestations ; the prophecies which it fulfilled and which 
it contains ; its influence on society, and other circum- 
stances connected with it ; are utterly inexplicable by 
human powers and principles, but accord with, and are 
fully explained by, the power and perfections of God. 

These various particulars I cannot attempt to unfold. 
One or two may be illustrated to show you the mode of 
applying the principles which I have laid down. I will 
take first the character of Jesus Christ. How is this 
to be explained by the principles of human nature ? — 
We are immediately struck with this peculiarity in the 
Author of Christianity, that, whilst all other men are 
formed in a measure by the spirit of the age, we can 
discover in Jesus no impression of the period in which 
he lived. We know with considerable accuracy the 
state of society, the modes of thinking, the hopes and 
expectations of the country in which Jesus was born 
and grew up ; and he is as free from them, and as ex- 
alted above them, as if he had lived in another world, 
or with every sense shut on the objects around him. 
His character has in itmothing local or temporary. It 
can be explained by nothing around him. His history 

11 



80 THE EVIDENCES OF 

shows him to us a solitary being, living for purposes 
which none but himself comprehended, and enjoying 
not so much as the sympathy of a single mind. His 
Apostles, his chosen companions, brought to him the 
spirit of the age ; and nothing shows its strength more 
strikingly, than the slowness with which it yielded in 
these honest men to the instructions of Jesus. 

Jesus came to a nation expecting a Messiah ; and he 
claimed this character. But instead of conforming to 
the opinions which prevailed in regard to the Messiah, 
he resisted them wholly and without reserve. To a 
people anticipating a triumphant leader, under whom 
vengeance as well as ambition was to be glutted by the 
prostration of their oppressors, he came as a spiritual 
leader, teaching humility and peace. This undisguised 
hostility to the dearest hopes and prejudices of his 
nation ; this disdain of the usual compliances, by which 
ambition and imposture conciliate adherents ; this de- 
liberate exposure of himself to rejection and hatred, 
cannot easily be explained by the common principles 
of human nature, and excludes the possibility of selfish 
aims in the Author of Christianity. 

One striking peculiarity in Jesus is the extent, the 
vastness, of his views* Whilst all around him looked 
for a Messiah to liberate God's ancient people, whilst 
to every other Jew, Judea was the exclusive object of 
pride and hope, Jesus came, declaring himself to be 
the deliverer and light of the world, and in his whole 
teaching and life, you see a consciousness, which never 
forsakes him, of a relation to the whole human race. 
This idea of blessing mankind, of spreading a univer- 
sal religion, was the most magnificent which had ever, 
entered man's mind. All previous religions had been 



REVEALED RELIGION. 81 

given to particular nations. No conqueror, legislator, 
philosopher, in the extravagance of ambition, had ever 
dreamed of subjecting all nations to a common faith. 

This conception of a universal religion, intended alike 
for Jew and Gentile, for all nations and climes, is whol- 
ly inexplicable by the circumstances of Jesus. He 
was a Jew, and the first and deepest and most constant 
impression on a Jew's mind, was that of the superiori- 
ty conferred on his people and himself by the national 
religion introduced by Moses. The wall between the 
Jew and the Gentile seemed to reach to heaven. The 
abolition of the peculiarity of Moses, the prostration 
of the temple on Mount Zion, the erection of a new 
religion, in which all men would meet as brethren, and 
which would be the common and equal property of Jew 
and Gentile, these were of all ideas the last to spring 
up in Judea, the last for enthusiasm or imposture to 
originate. 

Compare next these views of Christ with his station 
in life. He was of humble birth and education, with 
nothing in his lot, with no extensive means, no rank, or 
wealth, or patronage, to infuse vast thoughts and ex- 
travagant plans. The shop of a carpenter, the village 
of Nazareth, were not spots for ripening a scheme more 
aspiring and extensive than had ever been formed. It 
is a principle of human nature, that, except in case 
of insanity, some proportion is observed between the 
power of an individual, and his plans and hopes. The 
purpose, to which Jesus devoted himself, was as ill suited 
to his condition as an attempt to change the "seasons, 
or to make the sun rise in the west. That a young 
man, in obscure life, belonging to an oppressed nation, 
should seriously think of subverting the time-hallowed 



82 THE EVIDENCES OF 

and deep-rooted religions of the world, is a strange 
fact ; but with this purpose we see the mind of Jesus 
thoroughly imbued ; and, sublime as it is, he never 
falls below it in his language or conduct, but speaks 
and acts with a consciousness of superiority, with a 
dignity and authority, becoming this unparalleled des- 
tination. 

In this connexion, I cannot but add another striking 
circumstance in Jesus, and that is, the calm confidence 
with which he always looked forward to the accomplish- 
ment of his design. He fully knew the strength of the 
passions and powers which were arrayed against him, 
and was perfectly aware that his life was to be short- 
ened by violence ; yet not a word escapes him implying 
a doubt of the ultimate triumphs of his religion. One 
of the beauties of the Gospels, and one of the proofs 
of their genuineness, is found in our Saviour's indirect 
and obscure allusions to his approaching sufferings, and 
to the glory which was to follow ; allusions showing 
us the workings of a mind, thoroughly conscious of 
being appointed to accomplish infinite good through 
great calamity. This entire and patient relinquishment 
of immediate success, this ever present persuasion, that 
he was to perish before his religion would advance, 
and this calm, unshaken anticipation of distant and un- 
bounded triumphs, are remarkable traits, throwing a 
tender and solemn grandeur over our Lord, and wholly 
inexplicable by human principles, or by the circumstan- 
ces in which he was placed. 

The -views hitherto taken of Christ relate to his 
public character and office. If we pass to what may be 
called his private character, we shall receive the same 
impression of inexplicable excellence. The most strik- 



REVEALED RELIGION. 83 

kig trait in Jesus was, undoubtedly, benevolence ; and, 
although this virtue had existed before, yet it had not 
been manifested in the same form and extent. Christ's 
benevolence was distinguished first by its expansiveness. 
At that age, an unconfined philanthropy, proposing and 
toiling to do good without distinction of country or rank, 
was unknown. Love to man as man, love comprehend- 
ing the hated Samaritan and the despised publican, was 
a feature which separated Jesus from the best men of 
his nation and of the world. Another characteristic of 
the benevolence of Jesus, was its gentleness and ten- 
derness, forming a strong contrast with the hardness 
and ferocity of the spirit and manners which then pre- 
vailed, and with that sternness and inflexibility, which 
the purest philosophy of Greece and Rome inculcated 
as the perfection of virtue. But its most distinguishing 
trait was its superiority to injury. Revenge was one 
of the recognised rights of the age in which he lived ; 
and though a few sages, who had seen its inconsistency 
with man's dignity, had condemned it, yet none had in- 
culcated the duty of regarding one's worst enemies with 
that kindness which God manifests to sinful men, and 
of returning curses with blessings and prayers. This 
form of benevolence, the most disinterested and divine 
form, was, as you well know, manifested by Jesus Christ 
in infinite strength, amidst injuries and indignities which 
cannot be surpassed. Now this singular eminence of 
goodness, this superiority to the degrading influences 
of the age, under which all other men suffered, needs 
to be explained ; and one thing it demonstrates, that 
Jesus Christ was not an unprincipled deceiver, exposing 
not only his own life but the lives of confiding friends, 
in an enterprise next to desperate. 
11 * 



54 



THE EVIDENCE IP 



I cannot enlarge on other traits of the character of 
Christ I wiJl only observe, that it had one listincuoB, 

which more man an y thing, forms a perfect character. 
I: was made up of contrasts ; in other words. :: was i 
union of excellences which axe net easily reconz.ri. 
which seem a: first sight incongruous, but hich. when 
blended and duly proportioned, constitute moral har- 
mony, and attract, with equal power. love ^nd venera- 
tion. For example, we discover in Jesus Christ an 
unparalleled dignity of character, a consciousness of 
greatness, never discovered or approached by any other 
individual in history : and yet this was blended "ith a 
condescension, lowliness, and unostentatious simplicity, 
which had never before been thought distent with 
greatness. In like manner, he united an utter supe- 
riority to the world. :: its pleasures and ordinary inter- 
est, with suavity :: manners and freedom from austerity. 
He joined strong feeling and self-possession; an indig- 
oanl sensibility to sin. and compassion to the sinner; 
an intense devotion to his work, and calmness under 
opposition and ill success : a universal philanthropy, and 
a susceptibility of private attachments : the authority 
which became the Saviour of the world, and the ten- 
derness and gratitude of a son. Such was the author 
of our religion. And is his :.".:-.: i::e: be ie explained 
by imposture or insane enthusiasm ? Dies it not bear 
the unambiguous marks of a heavenly orig in : 

Perhaps it may be said, this character never ex:s:5;:. 
Then the invention ::" it is to be explair.ei. and the 
recej ::on which this fiction met with ; and these perhaps 
tee is difficult : ::: lanation an natural principles, as 
its real existence. Christ's history :rs;s all the marks 
of reality; a more frank, sample, unlabored, imosteu- 



REVEALED RELIGION. 85 

tatious narrative was never penned. Besides, his char- 
acter, if invented, must have been an invention of sin- 
gular difficulty, because no models existed on which* to 
frame it. He stands alone in the records of time. The 
conception of a being, proposing such new and exalted 
ends, and governed by higher principles than the pro- 
gress of society had developed, implies singular intel- 
lectual power. That several individuals should join in 
equally vivid conceptions of this character ; and should 
not merely describe in general terms the fictitious being 
to whom it was attributed, but should introduce him 
into real life, should place him in a great variety of 
circumstances, in connexion with various ranks of men, 
with friends and foes, and should in all preserve his 
identity, show the same great and singular mind always 
acting in harmony with itself; this is a supposition hard- 
ly credible, and, when the circumstances of the writers 
of the New Testament are considered, seems to be as 
inexplicable on human principles, as what I before sug- 
gested, the composition of Newton's u Principia " by a 
savage. The character of Christ, though delineated 
in an age of great moral darkness, has stood the scru- 
tiny of ages ; and, in proportion as men's moral senti- 
ments have been refined, its beauty has been more seen 
and felt. To suppose it invented, is to suppose that 
its authors, outstripping their age, had attained to a 
singular delicacy and elevation of moral perception and 
feeling. But these attainments are not very recon- 
cilable with the character of its authors, supposing it 
to be a fiction ; that is, with the character of habitual 
liars and impious deceivers. 

But we are not only unable to discover powers ade- 
quate to this invention. There must have been motives 

H 



86 THE EVIDENCES OF 

for it ; for men do not make great efforts, without strong 
motives ; and, in the whole compass of human incite- 
ments, we challenge the infidel to suggest any, which 
could have prompted to the work now to be explained. 

Once more, it must be recollected, that this invention, 
if it were one, was received as real, at a period so near 
to the time ascribed to Christ's appearance, that the 
means of detecting it were infinite. That men should 
send out such a forgery, and that it should prevail and 
triumph, are circumstances not easily reconcilable with 
the principles of our nature. 

The character of Christ, then, was real. Its reality 
is the only explanation of the mighty revolution pro- 
duced by his religion. And how can you account for 
it, but by that cause to which he always referred it, — a 
mission from the Father ? 

Next to the character of Christ, his religion might 
be shown to abound in circumstances which contradict 
and repel the idea of a human origin. For example, 
its representations of the paternal character of God ; its 
inculcation of a universal charity ; the stress which it 
lays on inward purity ; its substitution of a spiritual wor- 
ship for the forms and ceremonies, which everywhere 
had usurped the name and extinguished the life of reli- 
gion ; its preference of humility, and of the mild, un- 
ostentatious, passive virtues, to the dazzling qualities 
which had monopolized men's admiration ; its consistent 
and bright discoveries of immortality ; its adaptation 
to the wants of man as a sinner ; its adaptation to all 
the conditions, capacities, and sufferings of human na- 
ture ; its pure, sublime, yet practicable morality ; its 
high and generous motives ; and its fitness to form a 



REVEALED RELIGION. 87 

character, which plainly prepares for a higher life than 
the present ; these are peculiarities of Christianity, 
which will strike us more and more, in proportion as 
we understand distinctly the circumstances of the age 
and country in which this religion appeared, and for 
which no adequate human cause has been or can be 
assigned. 

Passing over these topics, each of which might be 
enlarged into a discourse, I will make but one remark 
on this religion, which strikes my own mind very forci- 
bly. Since its introduction, human nature has made 
great progress, and society experienced great changes ; 
and in this advanced condition of the world, Christian- 
ity, instead of losing its application and importance, 
is found to be more and more congenial and adapted 
to man's nature and wants. Men have outgrown the 
other institutions of that period when Christianity ap- 
peared, its philosophy, its modes of warfare, its policy, 
its public and private economy ; but Christianity has 
never shrunk as intellect has opened, but has always 
kept in advance of men's faculties, and unfolded nobler 
views in proportion as they have ascended. The high- 
est powers and affections, which our nature has devel- 
oped, find more than adequate objects in this religion. 
Christianity is indeed peculiarly fitted to the more im- 
proved stages of society, to the more delicate sensibili- 
ties of refined minds, and especially to that dissatisfac- 
tion with the present state, which always grows with the 
growth of our moral powers and affections. As men 
advance in civilization, they become susceptible of men- 
tal sufferings, to which ruder ages are strangers ; and 
these Christianity is fitted to assuage. Imagination 
and intellect become more restless ; and Christianity 



88 THE EVIDENCES OF 

brings them tranquillity, by the eternal and magnificent 
truths, the solemn and unbounded prospects, which it 
unfolds. This fitness of our religion to more advanced 
stages of society than that in which it was introduced, 
to wants of human nature not then developed, seems 
to me very striking. The religion bears the marks of 
having come from a being who perfectly understood the 
human mind, and had power to provide for its progress. 
This feature of Christianity is of the nature of prophe- 
cy. It was an anticipation of future and distant ages ; 
and, when we consider among whom our religion sprung, 
where, but in God, can we find an explanation of this 
peculiarity ? 

I have now offered a few hints on the character of 
Christ, and on the character of his religion ; and, before 
quitting these topics, I would observe, that they form 
a strong presumption in favor of the miraculous facts 
of the Christian history. These miracles were not 
wrought by a man, whose character, in other respects, 
was ordinary. They were acts of a being, whose mind 
was as singular as his works, who spoke and acted with 
more than human authority, whose moral qualities and 
sublime purposes were in accordance with superhuman 
powers. Christ's miracles are in unison with his whole 
character, and bear a proportion to it, like that which 
we observe in the most harmonious productions of na- 
ture ; and in this way they receive from it great con- 
firmation. And the same presumption in their favor 
arises from his religion. That a religion, carrying in it- 
self such marks of divinity^ and so inexplicable on human 
principles, should receive outward confirmations from 
Omnipotence, is not surprising. The extraordinary char- 
acter of the religion accords with and seems to de- 



REVEALED RELIGION. 89 

mand extraordinary interpositions in its behalf. Its 
miracles are not solitary, naked, unexplained, discon- 
nected events, but are bound up with a system, which 
is worthy of God, and impressed with God ; which 
occupies a large space, and is operating, with great and 
increasing energy, in htiman affairs. 

As yet I have' not touched on what seem to many 
writers the strongest proofs of Christianity, I mean the 
direct evidences of its miracles ; by which we mean the 
testimony borne to them, including the character, con- 
duct, and condition of the witnesses. These I have 
not time to unfold ; nor is this labor needed ; for Pa- 
ley's inestimable work, which is one of your classical 
books, has stated these proofs with great clearness and 
power. I would only observe, that they may all be 
resolved into this single principle, namely, that the 
Christian miracles were originally believed under such 
circumstances, that this belief can only be explained 
by their actual occurrence. That Christianity was re- 
ceived at first on the ground of miracles, and that its 
first preachers and converts proved the depth and 
strength of their conviction of these facts, by attesting 
them in sufferings and in death, we know from the most 
ancient records which relate to this religion, both Chris- 
tian and Heathen ; and, in fact, this conviction can 
alone explain their adherence to Christianity. Now, 
that this conviction could only have sprung from the 
reality of the miracles, we infer from the known cir- 
cumstances of these witnesses, whose passions, inter- 
ests, and strongest prejudices were originally hostile 
to the new religion ; whose motives for examining with 
care the facts on which it rested, were as urgent and 



90 THE EVIDENCES OF 

solemn, and whose means and opportunities of ascep 
taining their truth were as ample and unfailing, as can 
be conceived to conspire ; so that the supposition of 
their falsehood cannot be admitted, without subvert- 
ing our trust in human judgment and human testimony 
under the most favorable circumstances for discovering 
truth ; that is, without introducing universal skepticism. 

There is one class of Christian evidences, to which 
I have but slightly referred, but which has struck with 
peculiar force men of reflecting minds. I refer to the 
marks of truth and reality, which are found in the Chris- 
tian Records ; to the internal proofs, which the books 
of the New Testament carry with them, of having been 
written by men who lived in the first age of Christian- 
ity, who believed and felt its truth, who bore a part in 
the labors and conflicts which attended its establish- 
ment, and who wrote from personal knowledge and deep 
conviction. A few remarks to illustrate the nature and 
power of these internal proofs, which are furnished by 
the books of the New Testament, I will now subjoin. 

The New Testament consists of histories and epis- 
tles. The historical books, namely, the Gospels and 
die Acts, are a continued narrative, embracing many 
years, and professing to give the history of the rise 
and progress of the religion. Now it is worthy of ob- 
servation, that these writings completely answer their 
end ; that they completely solve the problem, how this, 
peculiar religion grew up and established itself in the 
world ; that they furnish precise and adequate causes 
for this stupendous revolution in human affairs. It is 
also worthy of remark, that they relate a series of facts, 
which are not only connected with one another, but are 



REVEALED RELIGION. 91 

intimately linked with the long series which has fol- 
lowed them, and agree accurately with subsequent his- 
tory, so as to account for and sustain it. Now, that a 
collection of fictitious narratives, coming from different 
hands, comprehending many years, and spreading over 
many countries, should not only form a consistent whole, 
when taken by themselves ; but should also connect and 
interweave themselves with real history so naturally and 
intimately, as to furnish no clue for detection, as to ex« 
elude the appearance of incongruity and discordance, 
and as to give an adequate explanation and the only 
explanation of acknowledged events, of the most im- 
portant revolution in society ; this is a supposition from 
which an intelligent man at once revolts, and which, if 
admitted, would shake a principal foundation of history. 

I have before spoken of the unity and consistency of 
Christ's character as developed in the Gospels, and of 
the agreement of the different writers in giving us the 
singular features of his mind. Now there are the same 
marks of truth running through the whole of these nar- 
ratives. For example, the effects produced by Jesus 
on the various classes of society ; the different feelings 
of admiration, attachment, and envy, which he called 
forth ; the various expressions of these feelings ; the 
prejudices, mistakes, and gradual illumination of his 
disciples ; these are all given to us with such marks of 
truth and reality as could not easily be counterfeited. 
The whole history is precisely such, as might be ex- 
pected from the actual appearance of such a person as 
Jesus Christ, in such a state of society as then existed. 

The Epistles, if possible, abound in marks of truth 
and reality even more than the Gospels. They are 

12 



92 THE EVIDENCES OF 

imbued thoroughly with the spirit of the first age of 
Christianity. They bear all the marks of having come 
from men plunged in the conflicts which the new re- 
ligion excited, alive to its interests, identified with its 
fortunes. They betray the very state of mind which 
must have been generated by the peculiar condition of 
the first propagators of the religion. They are letters 
written on real business, intended for immediate effects, 
designed to meet prejudices and passions, which such 
a religion must at first have awakened. They contain 
not a trace of the circumstances of a later age, or of 
the feelings, impressions, and modes of thinking by 
which later times were characterized, and from which 
later writers could not easily have escaped. The let- 
ters of Paul have a remarkable agreement with his 
history. They are precisely such as might be expected 
from a man of a vehement mind, who had been brought 
up in the schools of Jewish literature, who had been 
converted by a sudden, overwhelming miracle, who had 
been intrusted with the preaching of the new religion 
to the Gentiles, and who was everywhere met by .the 
prejudices and persecuting spirit of his own nation. 
They are full of obscurities growing out of these points 
of Paul's history and character, and out of the circum- 
stances of the infant church, and which nothing but an 
intimate acquaintance with that early period can illus- 
trate. This remarkable infusion of the spirit of the 
first age into the Christian Records, cannot easily be 
explained but by the fact, that they were written in 
that age by the real and zealous propagators of Chris- 
tianity, and that they are records of real convictions and 
of actual events. 



REVEALED RELIGION. 93 

There is another evidence of Christianity, still more 
nternal than any on which I have yet dwelt, an evi- 
dence to be felt rather than described, but not less real 
because founded on feeling. I refer to that conviction 
of the divine original of our religion, which springs up 
and continually gains strength, in those who apply it ha» 
bitually to their tempers and lives, and who imbibe its 
spirit and hopes. In such men, there is a consciousness 
of the adaptation of Christianity to their noblest facul- 
ties ; a consciousness of its exalting and consoling influ- 
ences, of its power to confer the true happiness of hu- 
man nature, to give that peace which the world cannot 
give ; which assures them, that it is not of earthly origin, 
but a ray from the Everlasting Light, a stream from the 
Fountain of Heavenly Wisdom and Love. This is the 
evidence which sustains the faith of thousands, who 
never read and cannot understand the learned books of 
Christian apologists, who want, perhaps, words to ex- 
plain the ground of their belief, but whose faith is of 
adamantine firmness, who hold the Gospel with a con- 
viction more intimate and unwavering than mere argu- 
ment ever produced. 

But I must tear myself from a subject, which opens 
upon me continually as I proceed. — Imperfect as this 
discussion is, the conclusion, I trust, is placed beyond 
doubt, that Christianity is true. And, my hearers, if 
true, it is the greatest of all truths, deserving and de- 
manding our reverent attention and fervent gratitude. 
This religion must never be confounded with our com- 
mon blessings. It is a revelation of pardon, which, as 
sinners, we all need. Still more, it is a revelation of 
human immortality ; a doctrine, which, however under- 
valued amidst the bright anticipations of inexperienced 



94 THE EVIDENCES OF REVEALED RELIGION. 

youth, is found to be our strength and consolation, and 
the only effectual spring of persevering and victorious 
virtue, when the realities of life have scattered our vis- 
ionary hopes ; when pain, disappointment, and tempta- 
tion press upon us ; when this world's enjoyments are 
found unable to quench that deep thirst of happiness 
which burns in every breast ; when friends, whom we 
love as our own souls, die ; and our own graves open 
before us. — To all who hear me, and especially to my 
young hearers, I would say, let the truth of this religion 
be the strongest conviction of your understandings ; let 
its motives and precepts sway with an absolute power 
your characters and lives. 



EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 



Romans i. 16 : "I am not ashamed of the Gospel of Christ." 

PART I. 

These words of Paul are worthy of his resolute and 
disinterested spirit. In uttering them he was not an 
echo of the multitude, a servile repeater of established 
doctrines. The vast majority around him were ashamed 
of Jesus. The cross was then coupled with infamy. 
Christ's name was scorned as a malefactor's, and to 
profess his religion was to share his disgrace. Since 
that time what striking changes have occurred ! The 
cross now hangs as an ornament from the neck of beauty. 
It blazes on the flags of navies, and the standards of 
armies. Millions bow before it in adoration, as if it were 
a shrine of the divinity. Of course, the temptation to 
be ashamed of Jesus is very much diminished. Still it 
is not wholly removed. Much of the homage now paid 
to Christianity is outward, political, worldly, and paid 
to its corruptions much more than to its pure and lofty 
spirit ; and accordingly its conscientious and intrepid 
friends must not think it a strange thing to be encoun- 
tered with occasional coldness or reproach. We may 



96 EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 

still be tempted to be ashamed of our religion, by being 
thrown among skeptics, who deny and deride it. We 
may be tempted to be ashamed of the simple and ra- 
tional doctrines of Christ, by being brought into con- 
nexion with narrow zealots, who enforce their dark and 
perhaps degrading peculiarities as essential to salvation. 
We may be tempted to be ashamed of his pure, meek, 
and disinterested precepts, by being thrown among the 
licentious, self-seeking, and vindictive. Against these 
perils we should all go armed. To be loyal to truth 
and conscience under such trials, is one of the signal 
proofs of virtue. No man deserves the name of Chris- 
tian, but he who adheres to his principles amidst the 
unbelieving, the intolerant, and the depraved. 

"I am not ashamed of the gospel of Christ." So 
said Paul. So would I say. Would to God that I 
could catch the spirit as well as the language of the 
Apostle, and bear my testimony to Christianity with the 
same heroic resolution. Do any ask, why I join in this 
attestation to the gospel ? Some of my reasons I pro- 
pose now to set before you ; and in doing so, I ask the 
privilege of speaking, as the Apostle has done, in the 
first person ; of speaking in my own name, and of laying 
open my own mind in the most direct language. There 
are cases, in which the ends of public discourse may 
be best answered by the frank expression of individual 
feeling ; and this mode of address, when adopted with 
such views, ought not to be set down to the account 
of egotism. 

I proceed to state the reasons why I am not ashamed 
of the gospel of Christ ; and I begin with one so impor- 
tant, that it will occupy the present discourse. 



EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 97 

1 am not ashamed of the gospel of Christ, because 
8t is true. This is my first reason. The religion is 
frtte, and no consideration but this could induce me to 
defend it. I adopt it, not because it is popular, for false 
and ruinous systems have enjoyed equal reputation ; nor 
because it is thought to uphold the order of society, for 
I believe that nothing but truth can be permanently 
useful. It is true ; and I say this not lightly, but after 
deliberate examination. I am not repeating the accents 
of the nursery. I do jiot affirm the truth of Christian- 
ity, because I was so taught before I could inquire, or 
because I was brought up in a community pledged to 
this belief. It is not unlikely, that my faith and zeal 
will be traced by some to these sources ; and believing 
such imputations to be groundless, fidelity to the cause 
of truth binds me to repel them. The circumstance of 
having been born and educated under Christianity, so 
far from disposing me to implicit faith, has often been 
to me the occasion of serious distrust of our religion. 
On observing how common it is for men of all countries 
.and names, whether Christians, Jews, or Mahometans, 
to receive the religion of their fathers, I have again 
and again asked myself, whether I too was not a slave, 
whether I too was not blindly walking in the path of 
tradition, and yielding myself as passively as others to 
an hereditary faith. I distrust and fear the power of 
numbers and of general opinion over my judgment; 
and few things incite me more to repel a doctrine than 
intolerant attempts to force it on my understanding. 
Perhaps my Christian education and connexions have 
inclined me to skepticism, rather than bowed my mind 
to authority. 

It may still be said, that the pride and prejudices 
27* i 



98 EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 

and motives of interest, which belong to my profession 
as a Christian minister, throw a suspiciousness ovei 
my reasoning and judgment on the present subject. I 
reply, that to myself I seem as free from biases of this 
kind, as the most indifferent person. I have no priestly 
prepossessions. I know and acknowledge the corrup- 
tions and perversions of the ministerial office from the 
earliest age of the church. I reprobate the tyranny 
which it exercises so often over the human mind. I 
recognise no peculiar sanctity in those who sustain it. 
I think, then, that I come to the examination of Chris- 
tianity with as few blinding partialities as any man. I 
indeed claim no exemption from error ; I ask no im- 
plicit faith in my conclusions ; I care not how jealously 
and thoroughly my arguments are sifted. I only ask, 
that I may not be prejudged as a servile or interested 
partisan of Christianity. I ask that I may be heard as 
a friend of truth, desirous to cid my fellow-creatures in 
determining a question of great and universal concern. 
I appear as the advocate of Christianity, solely because 
it approves itself to my calmest reason as a revelation 
from God, and as the purest, brightest light which He 
has shed on the human mind. I disclaim all other mo- 
tives. No policy, no vassalage to opinion, no dread 
of reproach even from the good, no private interest, no 
desire to uphold a useful superstition, nothing in short 
but a deliberate conviction of the truth of Christianity, 
induces me to appear in its ranks. I should be ashamed 
of it, did I not believe it true. 

In discussing this subject, I shall express my con- 
victions strongly ; I shall speak of infidelity as a gross 
and perilous error. But in so doing, [ beg not to he 



EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 99 

understood as passing sentence on the character of in- 
dividual unbelievers. I shall show that the Christian 
religion is true, is from God ; but I do not therefore 
conclude, that all who reject it are the enemies of God, 
and are to be loaded with reproach. I would uphold 
the truth without ministering to uncharitableness. The 
criminality, the damnable guilt of unbelief in all imagi- 
nable circumstances, is a position which I think un- 
tenable ; and persuaded as I am, that it prejudices the 
cause of Christianity, by creating an antipathy between 
its friends and opposers, which injures both, and drives 
the latter into more determined hostility to the truth, 
I think it worthy of a brief consideration in this stage 
of the discussion. 

I lay it down as a principle, that unbelief, considered 
in itself, has no moral quality, is neither a virtue nor 
a vice, but must receive its character, whether good or 
bad, from the dispositions or motives which produce or 
pervade it. Mere acts of the understanding are neither 
right nor wrong. When I speak of faith as a holy or 
virtuous principle, I extend the term beyond its primi- 
tive meaning, and include in it not merely the assent 
of the intellect, but the disposition or temper by which 
this assent is determined, and which it is suited to con- 
firm ; and I attach as broad a signification to unbelief, 
when I pronounce it a crime. The truth is, that the 
human mind, though divided by our philosophy into 
many distinct capacities, seldom or never exerts them 
separately, but generally blends them in one act. Thus 
in forming a judgment, it exerts the will and affections, 
or the moral principles of our nature, as really as the 
power of thought. Men's passions and interests mix 
with, and are expressed in, the decisions of the intel- 



100 EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 

lect. In the Scriptures, which use language freely, and 
not with philosophical strictness, faith and unbelief are 
menial acts of this complex character, or joint products 
of the understanding and heart ; and on this account 
alone, they are objects of approbation or reproof. In 
these views, I presume, reflecting Christians of every 
name agree. 

According to these views, opinions cannot be laid 
down as unerring and immutable signs of virtue and 
vice. The very same opinion may be virtuous in one 
man and vicious in another, supposing it, as is very 
possible, to have originated in different states of mind. 
For example, if through envy and malignity I should 
rashly seize on the slightest proofs of guilt in my neigh- 
bour, my judgment of his criminality would be morally 
wrong. Let another man arrive at the same conclu- 
sion, in consequence of impartial inquiry and love of 
truth, and his decision would be morally right. Still 
more, according to these views, it is possible for the 
belief of Christianity to be as criminal as unbelief. Un- 
doubtedly the reception of a system, so pure in spirit 
and tendency as the gospel, is to be regarded in general 
as a favorable sign. But let a man adopt this religion, 
because it will serve his interest and popularity ; let 
him shut his mind against objections to it, lest they 
should shake his faith in a gainful system ; let him 
tamper with his intellect, and for base and selfish ends 
exhaust its strength in defence of the prevalent faith, 
and he is just as criminal in believing, as another would 
be in rejecting Christianity under the same bad im- 
pulses. Our religion is at this moment adopted, and 
passionately defended by vast multitudes, on the ground 
of the very same pride, worldliness, love of popularity, 



EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 101 

and blind devotion to hereditary prejudices, which led 
the Jews and Heathens to reject it in the primitive age ; 
and the faith of the first is as wanting in virtue, as was 
the infidelity of the last. 

To judge of the character of faith and unbelief, we 
must examine the times and the circumstances in which 
they exist. At the first preaching of the gospel, to be- 
lieve on Christ was a strong proof of an upright mind ; 
to enlist among his followers, was to forsake ease, honor, 
and wordly success ; to confess him was an act of signal 
loyalty to truth, virtue, and God. To believe in Christ 
at the present moment has no such significance. To 
confess him argues no moral courage. It may even be- 
tray a servility and worldliness of mind. These remarks 
apply in their spirit to unbelief. At different periods, 
and in different conditions of society, unbelief may ex- 
press very different states of mind. Before we pro- 
nounce it a crime, and doom it to perdition, we ought to 
know the circumstances under which it has sprung up, 
and to inquire with candor whether they afford no pallia- 
tion or defence. When Jesus Christ was on earth, 
when his miracles were wrought before men's eyes, when 
his voice sounded in their ears, when not a shade of 
doubt could be thrown over the reality of his supernatu- 
ral works, and not a human corruption had mingled with 
his doctrine, there was the strongest presumption against 
the uprightness and the love of truth of those who re- 
jected him. He knew too the hearts and the lives of 
those who surrounded him, and saw distinctly in their 
envy, ambition, worldliness, sensuality, the springs of 
their unbelief ; and accordingly he pronounced it a 
crime. Since that period, what changes have taken 
place ! Jesus Christ has left the world. His miracles 
i* 



102 EVIDENCES OP CHRISTIANITY. 

are events of a remote age, and the proofs of them 
though abundant, are to many perfectly unknown ; and. 
what is incomparably more important, his religion has 
undergone corruption, adulteration, disastrous change, 
and its likeness to its Founder is in no small degree ef- 
faced. The clear, consistent, quickening truth, which 
came from the lips of Jesus, has been exchanged for a 
hoarse jargon and vain babblings. The stream, so pure 
at the fountain, has been polluted and poisoned through 
its whole course. Not only has Christianity been over- 
whelmed by absurdities, but by impious doctrines, which 
have made the Universal Father, now a weak and vain 
despot, to be propitiated by forms and flatteries, and 
now an almighty torturer, foreordaining multitudes of his 
creatures to guilt, and then glorifying his justice by their 
everlasting woe. When I think what Christianity has 
become in the hands of politicians and priests, how it 
has been shaped into a weapon of power, how it has 
crushed the human soul for ages, how it has struck the 
intellect with palsy and haunted the imagination with su- 
perstitious phantoms, how it has broken whole nations to 
the yoke, and frowned on every free thought ; when I 
think how, under almost every form of this religion, its 
ministers have taken it into their own keeping, have 
hewn and compressed it into the shape of rigid creeds, 
and have then pursued by menaces of everlasting woe 
whoever should question the divinity of these works of 
their hands ; when I consider, in a word, how, under 
such influences, Christianity has been and still is exhib- 
ited, in forms which shock alike the reason, conscience, 
and heart, I feel deeply, painfully, what a different sys- 
tem it is from that which Jesus taught, and I dare not 
apply to unbelief the terms of condemnation which be- 
longed to the infidelity of the primitive age, 



EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 103 

Perhaps I ought to go further. Perhaps I ought to 
say, that to reject Christianity under some of its cor- 
ruptions is ratlor a virtue than a crime. At the present 
moment, I would ask, whether it is a vice to doubt the 
truth of Christianity, as it is manifested in Spain and 
Portugal ? When a patriot in those benighted countries, 
who knows Christianity only as a bulwark of despotism, 
as a rearer of inquisitions, as a stern jailer immuring 
wretched women in the convent, as an executioner 
stained and reeking with the blood of the friends of free- 
dom ; I say, when the patriot, who sees in our religion 
the instrument of these crimes and woes, believes and 
affirms that it is not from God, are we authorized to 
charge his unbelief on dishonesty and corruption of 
mind, and to brand him as a culprit ? May it not be 
that the spirit of Christianity in his heart emboldens him 
to protest with his lips against what bears the name ? 
And if he thus protest, through a deep sympathy with 
the oppression and sufferings of his race, is he not near- 
er the kingdom of God than the priest and inquisitor 
who boastingly and exclusively assume the Christian 
name ? Jesus Christ has told us, that " this is the con- 
demnation " of the unbelieving, " that they love dark- 
ness rather than light ; " and who does not see, that this 
ground of condemnation is removed, just in proportion 
as the light is quenched, or Christian truth is buried in 
darkness and debasing error ? 

I know I shall be told that a man in the circumstances 
now supposed, would still be culpable for his unbelief, 
because the Scriptures are within his reach, and these 
are sufficient to guide him to the true doctrines of Christ. 
But in the countries of which I have spoken, the Scrip- 
tures are not common ; and if they were, I apprehend 



104 EVIDENCES OP CHRISTIANITY. 

that we should task human strength too severely, in re* 
quiring it, under every possible disadvantage, to gain the 
truth from this source alone. A man, born and brought 
up in the thickest darkness, and amidst the grossest cor- 
ruptions of Christianity, accustomed to hear the Scriptures 
disparaged, accustomed to connect false ideas with their 
principal terms, and wanting our most common helps of 
criticism, can hardly be expected to detach from the 
mass of error which bears the name of the Gospel, the 
simple principles of the primitive faith. Let us not ex- 
act too much of our fellow-creatures. In our zeal for 
Christianity, let. us not forget its spirit of equity and 
mercy. — In these remarks I have taken an extreme 
case. I have supposed a man subjected to the greatest 
disadvantages in regard to the knowledge of Christianity. 
But obstacles less serious may exculpate the unbeliever. 
In truth, none of us can draw the line which separates 
between innocence and guilt in this particular. To 
measure the responsibility of a man, who doubts or de- 
nies Christianity, we must know the history of his mind, 
his capacity of judgment, the early influences and preju- 
dices to which he was exposed, the forms under which 
the religion and its proofs first fixed his thoughts, and 
the opportunities since enjoyed of eradicating errors, 
which struck root before the power of trying them was 
unfolded. We are not his judges. At another and an 
unerring tribunal he must give account. 

I cannot, then, join in the common cry against infi- 
delity as the sure mark of a corrupt mind. That unbe- 
lief often has its origin in evil dispositions, I cannot 
doubt. The character of the unbeliever often forces us 
to acknowledge, that he rejects Christianity to escape its 
rebukes ; that its purity is its chief offence ; that he 



EVIDENCES OP CHRISTIANITY. 105 

seeks infidelity as a refuge from fear and virtuous re- 
straint. But to impute these unholy motives to a man 
of pure life, is to judge rashly, and it may be unrigh- 
teously. I cannot look upon unbelief as essentially and 
unfailingly a crime. But I do look upon it as among 
the greatest of calamities. It is the loss of the chief aid 
of virtue, of the mightiest power over temptation, of the 
most quickening knowledge of God, of the only' un- 
failing light, of the only sure hope. The unbeliever 
would gain unspeakably by parting with every possession 
for the truth which he doubts or rejects. And how 
shall we win him to the faith ? Not by reproach, by 
scorn, by tones of superiority ; but by paying due re- 
spect to his understanding, his virtues, and his right of 
private judgment ; by setting before him Christianity in 
its simple majesty, its reasonableness, and wonderful 
adaptation to the wants of our spiritual nature ; by ex- 
hibiting its proofs without exaggeration, yet in their full 
strength ; and, above all, by showing in our own char- 
acters, and lives, that there is in Christianity a power to 
purify, elevate, and console, which can be found in no 
human teaching. These are the true instruments of 
conversion. The ignorant and superstitious may indeed 
be driven into a religion by menace and reproach. But 
the reflecting unbeliever cannot but distrust a cause 
which admits such weapons. He must be reasoned 
with as a man, an equal, and a brother. Perhaps we 
may silence him for a time, by spreading through the 
community a fanatical excitement, and a persecuting 
hatred of infidelity. But as by such processes Christi- 
anity would be made to take a more unlovely and irra- 
tional form, its secret foes would be multiplied ; its 
brightest evidence would be dimmed, its foundation 

28 



106 EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 

sapped, its energy impaired ; and whenever the time 
should arrive for throwing off the mask (and that time 
would come), we should learn, that in the very ranks of 
its nominal disciples, there had been trained a host of 
foes, who would burn to prostrate the intolerant faith, 
which had so long sealed their lips, and trampled on the 
rights and freedom of the human mind. 

According to these views, I do not condemn the un- 
believer, unless he bear witness against himself by an 
immoral and irreligious life. It is not given me to search 
his heart. But this power is given to himself, and as a 
friend, I call upon him to exert it ; I ask him to look 
honestly into his own mind, to question his past life, and 
to pronounce impartial sentence on the causes of his un- 
belief. Let him ask himself, whether he has inquired 
into the principles and proofs of Christianity deliberately 
and in the love of truth ; whether the desire to discover 
and fulfil his duties to God and his fellow-creatures has 
governed his examination ; whether he has surrendered 
himself to no passions or pursuits which religion and 
conscience rebuke, and which bar the mind and sear the 
heart against the truth. If, thus self-questioned, his 
heart acquit him, let no man condemn him, and let him 
heed no man's condemnation. But if conscience bear 
witness against him, he has cause to suspect and dread 
his unbelief. He has reason to fear, that it is the fruit 
of a depraved mind, and that it will ripen and confirm 
the depravity from which it sprung. 

I know that there are those, who will construe what 
they will call my lenity towards unbelief, into treachery 
towards Christianity. There are those who think, that 
unless skepticism be ranked among the worst crimes, 
and the infidel be marked out for abhorrence and dread 3 



EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 107 

the multitude of men will lose their hold on the gospel. 
An opinion more discreditable to Christianity cannot 
easily be advanced by its friends. It virtually admits, 
that the proofs of our religion, unless examined under 
the influence of terror, cannot work conviction ; that 
the gospel cannot be left, like other subjects, to the 
calm and unbiassed judgment of mankind. It discovers 
a distrust of Christianity, with which I have no sym- 
pathy. And here I would remark, that the worst abuses 
of our religion have sprung from this cowardly want of 
confidence in its power. Its friends have feared, that 
it could not stand without a variety of artificial but- 
tresses. They have imagined, that men must now be 
bribed into faith by annexing to it temporal privileges, 
now driven into it by menaces and inquisitions, now 
attracted by gorgeous forms, now awed by mysteries 
and superstitions ; in a word, that the multitude must 
be imposed upon, or the religion will fall. I have no 
such distrust of Christianity ; I believe in its invincible 
powers. It is founded in our nature. It meets our 
deepest wants. Its proofs as well as principles are 
adapted to the common understandings of men, and 
need not to be aided by appeals to fear or any other 
passion, which would discourage inquiry or disturb the 
judgment. I fear nothing for Christianity, if left to 
speak in its own tones, to approach men with its un- 
veiled, benignant countenance. I do fear much from 
the weapons of policy and intimidation, which are 
framed to uphold the imagined weakness of Christian 
truth. 

I now come to the great object of this discourse, — 
an exhibition of the proofs of Christianity; — and I be- 



108 EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 

gin with a topic which is needed to prepare some, if 
not many, to estimate these proofs fairly, and according 
to their true weight. I begin with the position, That 
there is nothing in the general idea of Revelation at 
which Reason ought to take offence, nothing inconsis- 
tent with any established truth, or with our best views 
of God and Nature. This topic meets a prejudice not 
very rare. I repeat it then, Revelation is nothing 
incredible, nothing which carries contradiction on its 
face, nothing at war with any great principles of reason 
or experience. On hearing of God's teaching us by 
some other means than the fixed order of nature, we 
ought not to be surprised, nor ought the suggestion to 
awaken resistance in our minds. 

Revelation is not at war with nature. From the 
necessity of the case, the earliest instruction must have 
come to human beings from this source. If our race had 
a beginning (and nothing but the insanity of Atheism 
can doubt this), then its first members, created as they 
were without human parentage, and having no resource 
in the experience of fellow-creatures who had preceded 
them, required an immediate teaching from their Crea- 
tor ; they would have perished without it. Revelation 
was the very commencement of human history, the 
foundation of all later knowledge and improvement. It 
was an essential part of the course of Providence, and 
must not then be regarded as a discord in God's gen- 
eral system. 

Revelation is not at war with nature. Nature prompts 
us to expect it from the relation which God bears to 
the human race. The relation of Creator is the mos* 
intimate which can subsist : and it leads us to anticipate 
a free and affectionate intercourse with the creature. 



EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY, 109 

That the Universal Father should be bound by a pa- 
rental interest to his offspring, that he should watch 
over and assist the progress of beings whom he has 
enriched with the divine gifts of reason and conscience, 
is so natural a doctrine, so accordant with his charac- 
ter, that various sects, both philosophical and religious, 
both anterior and subsequent to Christianity, have be- 
lieved, not only in general revelation, but that God 
reveals himself to every human soul. When I think of 
the vast capacities of the human mind, of God's near- 
ness to it, and unbounded love towards it, I am dis- 
posed to wonder, not that revelations have been made, 
but that they have not been more variously vouchsafed 
to the wants of mankind. 

Revelation has a striking agreement with the chief 
method which God has instituted for carrying forward 
individuals and the race, and is thus in harmony with 
his ordinary operations. Whence is it, that we all 
acquire our chief knowledge ? Not from the outward 
universe ; not from the fixed laws of material nature ; 
but from intelligent beings, more advanced than our- 
selves. The teachings of the wise and good are our 
chief aids. Were our connexion with superior minds 
broken off, had we no teacher but nature with its fixed 
laws, its unvarying revolutions of night and day and 
seasons, we should remain for ever in the ignorance of 
childhood. Nature is a volume, which we can read 
only by the help of an intelligent interpreter. The 
great law under which man is placed, is, that he shall 
receive illumination and impulse from beings more im- 
proved than himself. Now revelation is only an exten- 
sion of this universal method of carrying forward man- 
kind. In this case, God takes on himself the office 
28* J 



110 EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 

to which all rational beings are called. He becomes 
an immediate teacher to a few, communicating to them 
a higher order of truths than had before been attained, 
which they in turn are to teach to their race. Here is 
no new power or element introduced into the system, 
but simply an enlargement of that agency on which the 
progress of man chiefly depends. 

Let me next ask you to consider, Why or for what 
end God has ordained, as the chief means of human 
improvement, the communication of light from superior 
to inferior minds ; and if it shall then appear, that reve- 
lation is strikingly adapted to promote a similar though 
more important end, you will have another mark of 
agreement between revelation and his ordinary Provi- 
dence. Why is it that God has made men's progress 
dependent on instruction from their fellow-beings ? Why 
are the more advanced commissioned to teach the less 
informed ? A great purpose, I believe the chief pur- 
pose, is, to establish interesting relations among men, 
to bind them to one another by generous sentiments, to 
promote affectionate intercourse, to call forth a purer 
love than could spring from a communication of mere 
outward gifts. Now it is rational to believe, that the 
Creator designs to bind his creatures to Himself as truly 
as to one another, and to awaken towards himself even 
stronger gratitude, confidence, and love ; for these sen- 
timents towards God are more happy and ennobling 
than towards any other being ; and it is plain that reve- 
lation, or immediate divine teaching, serves as effectual- 
ly to establish these ties between God and man, as 
human teaching to attach men to one another. We 
^ee, then, in revelation an end corresponding to what 
the Supreme Being adopts in his common providence. 



EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. HI 

That the end here affirmed is worthy of his interposi- 
tion, who can doubt ? His benevolence can propose 
no higher purpose, than that of raising the minds and 
hearts of his creatures to himself. His parental char- 
acter is a pledge that he must intend this ineffable hap- 
piness for his rational offspring ; and Revelation is suit- 
ed to this end, not only by unfolding new doctrines in 
relation to God, but by the touching - proof which it 
carries in itself of the special interest which he takes 
in his human family. There is plainly an expression 
of deeper concern, a more affectionate character, in this 
mode of instruction, than in teaching us by the fixed 
order of nature. Revelation is God speaking to us in 
our own language, in the accents which human friend- 
ship employs. It shows a love, breaking through the 
reserve and distance, which we all feel to belong to the 
method of teaching us by his works alone. It fastens 
our minds on him. We can look on nature, and not 
think of the Being whose glory it declares ; but God 
is indissolubly connected with, and indeed is a part of, 
the idea of revelation. How much nearer does this 
direct intercourse bring him to the mass of mankind ! 
On this account revelation would seem to me important, 
were it simply to repeat the teachings of nature. This 
reiteration of great truths in a less formal style, in kind- 
er, more familiar tones, is peculiarly fitted to awaken 
the soul to the presence and benignity of its heavenly 
Parent. I see, then, in revelation a purpose corre- 
sponding with that for which human teaching was insti- 
tuted. Both are designed to bring together the teacher 
and the taught in pure affections. 

Let me next ask you to consider, what is the kind 
of instruction which the higher minds among men are 



112 EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 

chiefly called to impart to the inferior. You will here 
see another agreement between revelation and that or- 
dinary human teaching, which is the great instrument 
of improving the race. What kind of instruction is 
it, which parents, which the aged and experienced, are 
most anxious to give to the young, and on which the 
safety of this class mainly depends ? It is instruction 
in relation to the Future, to their adult years, such as 
is suited to prepare them fcr the life that is opening 
before them. It is God's will, when he gives us birth, 
that we should be forewarned of the future stages of 
our being, of approaching manhood or womanhood, of 
the scenes, duties, labors, through which we are to 
pass ; and for this end he connects us with beings, who 
have traversed the paths on which we are entering, and 
whose duty it is to train us for a more advanced age. 
Instruction in regard to Futurity is the great means 
of improvement. Now the Christian revelation has for 
its aim to teach us on this very subject; to disclose 
the life which is before us, and to fit us for it. A Fu- 
ture state is its constant burden. That God should 
give us light in regard to that state, if he designs us 
for it, is what we should expect from his solicitude to 
teach us in regard to what is future in our earthly ex- 
istence. Nature thirsts for, and analogy almost prom- 
ises, some illumination on the subject of human des- 
tiny. This topic I shall insist on more largely hereafter. 
I wish now simply to show you the agreement of reve- 
lation, in this particular, with the ordinary providence 
of God. 

I proceed to another order of reflections, which to 
my own mind is particularly suited to meet the vague 
idea, that revelation is at war with nature. To judge 



EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 113 

of nature, we should look at its highest ranks of beings. 
"We should inquire of the human soul, which we all feel 
to be a higher existence than matter. Now I maintain, 
that there are in the human soul wants, deep wants, 
which are not met by the influence's and teachings, which 
the ordinary course of things affords. I am aware that 
this is a topic to provoke distrust, if not derision, in the 
low-minded and sensual ; but I speak what I do know ; 
and nothing moves me so little as the scoffs of men w T ho 
despise their own nature. One of the most striking 
views of human nature, is the disproportion between 
what it conceives and thirsts for, and what it finds or 
can secure in the range of the present state. It is prone 
to stretch beyond its present bounds. Ideas of excel- 
lence and happiness spring up, which it cannot realize 
now. It carries within itself a standard, of which it dai- 
ly and hourly falls short. This self-contradiction is the 
source of many sharp pains. There is, in most men, a 
dim consciousness, at least, of being made for some- 
thing higher than they have gained, a feeling of internal 
discord, a want of some stable good, a disappointment in 
merely outward acquisitions ; and in proportion as these 
convictions and wants become distinct, they break out in 
desires of illumination and aids from God not found in 
nature. I am aware, that the wants of which I have 
spoken are but faintly developed in the majority of men. 
Accustomed to give their thoughts and strength to the 
outward world, multitudes do not penetrate and cannot 
interpret their own souls. They impute to outward 
causes the miseries which spring from an internal foun. 
tain. They do not detain, and are scarcely conscious 
of the better thoughts and feelings, which sometimes 
dart through their minds. Still there are few, who are 



114 EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 

not sometimes dissatisfied with themselves, who do not 
feel the wrong which they have done to themselves, and 
who do not desire a purer and nobler state of mind. 
The suddenness, with which the multitude are thrilled 
by the voice of fervent eloquence, when it speaks to 
them of the spiritual world in tones of reality, shows 
the deep wants of human nature even amidst ignorance 
and degradation. But all men do not give themselves 
wholly to outward things. There are those, and not 
a few, who are more true to their nature, and ought 
therefore to be regarded as its more faithful representa- 
tives ; and in such, the wants, of which I have spoken, 
are unfolded with energy. There are those, who feel 
painfully the weight of their present imperfection ; who 
are fired by rare examples of magnanimity and devotion; 
who desire nothing so intensely as power over tempta- 
tion, as elevation above selfish passions, as conformity 
of will to the inward law of duty, as the peace of con- 
scious rectitude and religious trust ; who would rejoice 
to lay down the present life for that spotless, bright, 
disinterested virtue, of which they have the type or 
germ in their own minds. Such men can find no re- 
source but in God, and are prepared to welcome a rev- 
elation of his merciful purposes as an unspeakable gift. 
I say, then, that the human mind has wants which nature 
does not answ T er. And these are not accidental feel- 
ings, unaccountable caprices, but are deep, enduring, 
and reproduced in all ages under one or another form. 
They breathe through the w^orks of genius ; they burn 
in the loftiest souls. Here are principles implanted by 
God in the highest order of his creatures on earth, to 
which revelation is adapted ; and I say, then,, that reve a 
lation is any thing but hostility to nature. 



EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 115 

I will offer but one more view in illustration of this 
topic. I ask you to consider, on what Principle of hu- 
man nature the Christian revelation is intended to bear 
and to exert influence, and then to inquire whether the 
peculiar importance of this principle be not a foundation 
for peculiar interposition in its behalf. If so, revelation 
may be said to be a demand of the human soul, and its 
imagined incongruity with nature will disappear. For 
what principle or faculty of the mind, then, was Chris- 
tianity intended ? It was plainly not given to enrich 
the intellect by teaching philosophy, or to perfect the 
imagination and taste by furnishing sublime and beauti- 
ful models of composition. It was not meant to give 
sagacity in public life, or skill and invention in common 
affairs. It was undoubtedly designed to develope all 
these faculties, but secondarily, and through its influence 
on a higher principle. It addresses itself primarily, 
and is especially adapted, to the Moral power in man. 
It regards and is designed for man as a moral being, 
endued with conscience or the principle of duty, who is 
capable of that peculiar form of excellence which we 
call righteousness or virtue, and exposed to that pecu- 
liar evil, guilt. Now the question offers itself, Why 
does God employ such extraordinary means for pro- 
moting virtue rather than science, for aiding conscience 
rather than intellect and our other powers ? Is there a 
foundation in the moral principle for peculiar interpo- 
sitions in its behalf? I affirm that there is. I affirm 
that a broad distinction exists between our moral nature 
and our other capacities. Conscience is the Supreme 
power within us. Its essence, its grand characteristic, 
is Sovereignty. It speaks with a divine authority. Its 
office is to command, to rebuke, to reward ; and happi- 



116 EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 

ness and honor depend on the reverence with which 
we listen to it. All our other powers become useless 
and worse than useless, unless controlled by the princi- 
ple of duty. Virtue is the supreme good, the supreme 
beauty, the divinest of God's gifts, the healthy and har- 
monious unfolding of the soul, and the germ of immor- 
tality. It is worth every sacrifice, and has power to 
transmute sacrifices and sufferings into crowns of glory 
and rejoicing. Sin, vice, is an evil of its own kind, and 
not to be confounded with any other. Who does not 
feel at once the broad distinction between misfortune 
and crime, between disease of body and turpitude of 
soul ? Sin, vice, is war with the highest power in our 
own breasts, and in the universe. It makes a being 
odious to himself, and arms against, him the principle 
of rectitude in God and in all pure beings. It poisons 
or dries up the fountains of enjoyment, and adds un- 
speakable weight to the necessary pains of life. It is 
not a foreign evil, but a blight and curse in the very 
centre of our being. Its natural associates are fear, 
shame, and self-torture ; and, whilst it robs the present 
of consolation, it leaves the future without hope. Now 
I say, that in this peculiar ruin wrought by moral evil 
and in this peculiar worth of moral goodness, we see 
reasons for special interpositions of God in behalf of 
virtue, in resistance of sin. It becomes the Infinite 
Father to manifest peculiar interest in the moral condi- 
tion and wants of his creatures. Their great and con- 
tinued corruption is an occasion for peculiar methods 
of relief ; and a revelation given to restore them, and 
carry them forward to perfection, has an end which jus- 
tifies, if it does not demand, this signal expression of 
parental love. 



EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. H7 

The preceding views have been offered, not as suf- 
ficient to prove that a revelation has been given, but 
for the purpose of removing the vague notion that it 
is at war with nature, and of showing its consistency 
with the spirit and principles of the divine administra- 
tion. I proceed now to consider the direct and positive 
proofs of Christianity, beginning with some remarks on 
the nature and sufficiency of the evidence on which it 
chiefly relies. 

Christianity sprung up about eighteen hundred years 
ago. Of course its evidences are to be sought in his- 
tory. We must go back to the time of its birth, and 
understand the condition in which it found the world, 
as well as the circumstances of its origin, progress, and 
establishment ; and happily, on these points, we have 
all the light necessary to a just judgment. We must 
not imagine, that a religion, which bears the date of so 
distant an age, must therefore be involved in obscurity. 
We know enough of the earliest times of Christianity 
to place the question of its truth within our reach. The 
past may be known as truly as the present ; and I deem 
this principle so important in the present discussion 
that I ask your attention to it. 

The past, I have said, may be known ; nor is this 
all ; we derive from it our most important knowledge. 
Former times are our chief instructors. Our political, 
as well as religious institutions, our laws, customs, modes 
of thinking, arts of life, have come down from earlier 
ages, and most of them are unintelligible without a light 
borrowed from history. 

Not only are we able to know the nearest of past 
ages, or those which touch on our own times, but those 
which are remote. No educated man doubts any more 

29 



118 EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 

of the victories of Alexander or Ceesar, before Christ, 
than of Napoleon's conquests in our own day. So open 
is our communication with some ages of antiquity, so 
many are the records which they have transmitted, thai 
we know them even better than nearer times ; and a 
religion which grew up eighteen hundred years ago, 
may be more intelligible and accompanied with more 
decisive proofs of truth or falsehood, than one which is 
not separated from us by a fourth part of that duration, 
From the nature of things, we may and must know 
much of the past ; for the present has grown out of the 
past, is its legacy, fruit, representative, and is deeply 
impressed with it. Events do not expire at the moment 
of their occurrence. Nothing takes place without leav- 
ing traces behind it ; and these are in many cases so 
distinct and various, as to leave not a doubt of their 
cause. We all understand, how, in the material world, 
events testify of themselves to future ages. Should we 
visit an unknown region, and behold masses of lava 
covered with soil of different degrees of thickness, and 
surrounding a blackened crater, we should have as firm 
a persuasion of the occurrence of remote and succes- 
sive volcanic eruptions, as if we had lived through the 
ages in which they took place. The chasms of the 
earth would report how terribly it had been shaken, 
and the awful might of long-extinguished fires would 
be written in desolations which ages had failed to ef- 
face. Now conquest, and civil and religious revolu- 
tions, leave equally their impressions on society, leave 
institutions, manners, and a variety of monuments, which 
are inexplicable without them, and which, taken togeth- 
er, admit not a doubt of their occurrence. The past 
stretches into the future, the present is crowded with it 3 
and can be interpreted only by the light of history. 



EVIDENCES OP CHRISTIANITY. 119 

But besides these effects and remains of earlier times, 
we have other and more distinct memorials of the past, 
which, when joined with the former, place it clearly 
within our knowledge. I refer to books. A book is 
more than a monument of a preceding age. It is a 
voice coming to us over the interval of centuries. Lan- 
guage, when written, as truly conveys to us another's 
mind as when spoken. It is a species of personal in- 
tercourse. By it the wise of former times give us their 
minds as really, as if by some miracle they were to rise 
from the dead and communicate with us by speech. 

From these remarks we learn that Christianity is not 
placed beyond the reach of our investigations by the 
remoteness of its origin ; and they are particularly ap- 
plicable to the age in which the gospel was first given 
to the world. Our religion did not spring up before 
the date of authentic history. Its birth is not hidden 
in the obscurity of early and fabulous times. We have 
abundant means of access to its earliest stages ; and, 
what is very important, the deep and peculiar interest 
which Christianity has awakened, has fixed the earnest 
attention of the most learned and sagacious men on the 
period of its original publication, so that no age of anti- 
quity is so thoroughly understood. Christianity sprung 
up at a time, when the literature and philosophy of 
Greece was spread far and wide, and had given a great 
impulse to the human mind ; and w T hen Rome by un- 
exampled conquests had become a centre and bond of 
union to the civilized world and to many half civilized 
regions, and had established a degree of communication 
between distant countries before unknown. We are not, 
then, left to grope our way by an unsteady light. Our 
means of information are various and great. We have 



120 EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 

incontestable facts in relation to the origin of our reli- 
gion, from which its truth may be easily deduced. A 
few of these facts, which form the first steps of our 
reasoning on this subject, I will now lay before you. 

1. First, then, we know with certainty the time when 
Christianity was founded. As to this fact, there is and 
can be no doubt. Heathen and Christian historians 
speak on this point with one voice. Christianity was 
first preached in the age of Tiberius. Not a trace of 
it exists before that period, and afterwards the marks 
and proofs of its existence are so obvious and acknowl- 
edged as to need no mention. Here is one important 
fact placed beyond doubt. 

2. In the next place, we know the place where Chris- 
tianity sprung up. No one can dispute the country of 
its birth. Its Jewish origin is not only testified by all 
history, but is stamped on its front and woven into its 
frame. The language in which it is conveyed, carries 
us at once to Judea. Its name is derived from Jewish 
prophecy. None but Jews could have written the New 
Testament. So natural, undesigned, and perpetual are 
the references and allusions of the writers to the opin- 
ions and manners of that people, so accustomed are 
they to borrow from the same source the metaphors, 
smilitudes, types, by which they illustrate their doc- 
trines, that Christianity, as to its outward form, may be 
said to be steeped in Judaism. We have, then, anoth- 
er established fact. We know where it was born. 

3. Again, we know the individual by whom Chris- 
tianity was founded. We know its Author, and from 
the nature of the case this fact cannot but be known. 
The founder of a religion is naturally and necessarily 
the object of general inquiry. Wherever the new faith 



EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 121 

is carried, the first and most eager questions are, 
" From whom does it come ? On whose authority does 
it rest ? " Curiosity is never more intense, than in re- 
gard to the individual, who claims a divine commission 
and sends forth a new religion. He is the last man to 
be overlooked or mistaken. In the case of. Christianity 
especially, its founder may be said to have been forced 
on men's notice, for his history forms an essential part 
of hi-- religion. Christianity is not an abstract doc- 
trine, which keeps its author out of sight. He is its 
very soul. It rests on him, and finds its best illus- 
tration in his life. These reflections however may be 
spared. The simple consideration, that Christianity 
must have had an author, and that it has been always 
ascribed to Jesus, and to no one else, places the great 
fact, which I would establish, beyond doubt. 

4. I next observe, that we not only know the founder 
of Christianity, but the ministers by whom he published 
and spread it through the world. A new religion must 
have propagators, first teachers, and with these it must 
become intimately associated. A community can no 
more be ignorant as to the teachers who converted it 
to a new faith, than as to the conqueror who subjected 
it to a new government ; and where the art of writing 
is known and used for recording events, the latter fact 
will not more certainly be transmitted to posterity than 
the former. We have the testimony of all ages, that 
the men called Apostles were the first propagators of 
Christianity, nor have any others been named as sus- 
taining this office ; and it is impossible that, on such a 
point, such testimony should be false. 

5. Again ; we know not only when, and where, and 
by whom Christianity was introduced ; — we know, from 

29* k 



122 EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 

a great variety of sources, what in the main this reli- 
gion was, as it came from the hands of its founder. 
To assure ourselves on this point, we need not recur 
to any sacred books. From the age following that of 
Christ and the Apostles, down to the present day, we 
have a series, and an almost numberless host, of writers 
on the subject of Christianity ; and whilst we discover 
in them a great diversity of opinions, and opposite in- 
terpretations of some of Christ's teachings, yet on the 
whole t'ney so far agree in the great facts of his his- 
tory, and in certain great principles of his religion, that 
we cannot mistake as to the general character of the 
system which he taught. There is not a shadow of 
reason for the opinion that the original system which 
Jesus taught was lost, and a new one substituted and 
fastened on the world in his name. The many and 
great corruptions of Christianity did not and could not 
hide its principal features. The greatest corruptions 
took place in the century which followed the death of 
the Apostles, when certain wild and visionary sects 
endeavoured to establish a union between the new reli- 
gion and the false philosophy to which they had been 
wedded in their heathen state. You may judge of their 
character and claims, when I tell you, that they gen- 
erally agreed in believing, that the God who made the 
world, and who was worshipped by the Jews, was not 
the supreme Cod, but an inferior and imperfect Deity, 
and that matter had existed from eternity, and was 
essentially and unchangeably evil. Yet these sects en- 
deavoured to sustain themselves on the writings which 
the great body of Christians received and honored as 
the works of the Apostles ; and, amidst their delusions 
they recognised and taught the miracles of Christ, his 



EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 123 

resurrection, and the most important principles of his 
religion ; so that the general nature of Christianity, as 
it came from its Founder, may be ascertained beyond 
a doubt. Here another great point is fixed. 

(3. I have now stated to you several particulars re- 
lating to Christianity, which admit no doubt ; and these 
indisputable facts are of great weight in a discussion of 
the Christian evidences. There is one point more, of 
importance, which cannot be settled so expeditiously as 
these. I hope, however, enough may be said to place 
it beyond doubt, without exceeding the limits of a dis- 
course ; and I invite to it your serious attention. I say, 
then, that we not only know in general what Christi- 
anity was at its first promulgation ; but we know pre- 
cisely what its first propagators taught, for we have 
their writings. We have their religion under their own 
hands. We have particularly four narratives of the life, 
works, and words of their Master, which put us in pos- 
session of his most private as well as public teaching. 
It is true, that without those writings we should still 
have strong arguments for the truth of Christianity ; 
but we should be left in doubt as to some of its impor- 
tant principles ; and its internal evidence, which cor- 
roborates, nd, as some think, exceeds the external, 
would be vt y much impaired. The possession of the 
writings of ,he first propagators of the gospel, must 
plainly rend r us great aid in judging of its claims. 
These writ lgs, I say, we have, and this point I would 
now establif 1. 

I am aw re that the question, to which I now ask 
your attention, is generally confined to professed stu- 
dents. But it is one on which men of good sense are 
competent to judge, and its great importance gives it a 
claim to the serious consideration of every Christian. 



124 EVIDENCES OP CHRISTIANITY. 

The question is, whether the four Gospels are genu- 
ine, that is, whether they were written by those to whom 
they are ascribed. To answer it, let us consider how 
we determine the genuineness of books in general. I 
begin with the obvious remark, that to know the author 
of a work, it is not necessary that we should be eye- 
witnesses of its composition. Perhaps of the number- 
less publications of the present day, we have not seen 
one growing under the pen of the writer. By far the 
greater number come to us across the ocean, and yet 
we are as confident in regard to their authors as if we 
had actually seen them first committed to paper. The 
ascription of a book to an individual, during his life, 
by those whe are interested in him, and who have the 
best means of knowing the truth, removes all doubts as 
to its author. A strong and wide-spread conviction of 
this kind must have a cause, and can only be explained 
by the actual production of the work by the reputed 
writer. It should here be remembered that there is 
a strong disposition in men to ascertain the author of 
an important and interesting work. We have had a 
remarkable illustration of this in our own times. The 
author of " Waverley " saw fit to wrap himself for a time 
in mystery ; and what was the consequence ? No sub- 
ject in politics or science was agitated more generally 
than the question to whom the work belonged. It was 
not only made a topic in almost every periodical publi- 
cation, but one book was expressly written to solve the 
problem. The instance, I know, was remarkable; but 
this inquisitiveness in regard to books is a principle of 
our nature, and is particularly active, when the book in 
debate is a work of singular authority. 

T have spoken of the confidence which we feel as to 



EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 125 

the authors of books published in our own times. But 
our certainty is not confined to these. Every reading 
man is as sure that Hume and Robertson wrote the 
histories which bear their names, as that Scott has in 
our own time sent out the " Life of Bonaparte." Those 
eminent men were born more than a hundred years 
ago, and they died before the birth of most to whom 
I speak. But the communication between their times 
and our own is so open and various, that we know their 
literary labors as well as those of the present day. 
Not a few persons now living have had intercourse 
with some of the contemporaries of these historians ; 
and through this channel in particular, we of this gen- 
eration have the freest access to the preceding, and 
know its convictions in regard to the , authors of inter- 
esting books as fully as if we had lived in it ourselves. 
That the next age will have the same communication 
with the present as the present has with the past, and 
that these convictions of our predecessors will be trans- 
mitted by us to our immediate successors, you will 
easily comprehend ; and you will thus learn the respect 
which is due to the testimony of the third generation 
on such a subject. 

In what has now been said, we see with what confi- 
dence and certainty we determine the authors of writ- 
ings published in our own age or in the times nearest 
our own. These remarks may be easily applied to 
the productions of antiquity. When the question arises, 
whether an ancient book was written by the individual 
whose name it bears, we must inquire into the opinion 
of his contemporaries, or of those who succeeded his 
contemporaries so nearly as to have intimate commu- 
nication with them. The competency of these to a just 

K* 



126 EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 

judgment on the subject, we have seen ; and if they 
have transmitted their convictions to us in undisputed 
writings, it ought to be decisive. On this testimony, 
we ascribe many ancient books to their authors with 
the firmest faith ; and, in truth, we receive as genuine 
many works of antiquity on far inferior proofs. There 
are many books of which no notice can be found for 
several ages after the time of their reputed authors. 
Still the fact, that, as soon as they are named, they 
are ascribed undoubtingly, and by general consent, to 
certain authors, is esteemed a sufficient reason for 
regarding them as their productions, unless some op- 
posite proof can be adduced. This general reception 
of a work as having come from a particular writer, is 
an effect which requires a cause ; and the most natural 
and obvious explanation of his being named, rather than 
any other man, is, that he actually composed it. 

I now proceed to apply these principles to the four 
histories of Christ, commonly called Gospels. The 
question is, what testimony respecting their authors 
has come down to us from the age of their reputed 
authors, or from times so near it and so connected with 
it, as to be faithful representatives of its convictions. 
By this testimony, as we have seen, the genuineness 
of the books must be decided. And I begin with ad- 
mitting that no evidence on the subject is to be derived 
from contemporary writers. No author, living in the 
age of the first propagators of Christianity, has named 
the Gospels. The truth is, that no undisputed writ- 
ings of their immediate converts have been preserved. 
A few tracts, bearing the name of men acquainted 
ivith the Apostles, have indeed come down to us ; but 
so much uncertainty hangs over their origin, that I am 



EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 127 

unwilling to ground on them any reasoning. Nor ought 
we to wonder that the works of private Christians of the 
primitive age. are wanting to us ; for that was an age of 
persecution, when men were called to die rather than 
write for their religion. I suppose too, that during the 
times of the Apostles, little importance was attached to 
any books but such as were published or authorized oy 
these eminent men ; and, of course, what was written 
by others was little circulated, and soon passed away. 

The undisputed writings of the early Christians begin 
about seventy years after the times of the Apostles. 
At that period there probably remained none of the first 
converts or contemporaries of the Apostles. But there 
were living not a few, who had been acquainted with the 
last survivors of that honored generation. When the 
Apostles died, they must have left behind a multitude 
who had known them ; and of these not a few must have 
continued many years, and must have had intercourse 
with the new generation which sprung up after the apos- 
tolic age. Now in the times of this generation, the 
series of Christian authors begins. Although, then, we 
have no productions of the apostolic age to bear witness 
to the Gospels, we have writings from the ages which 
immediately followed it, and which, from their connex- 
ion with it, ought, as we have seen, to be regarded as 
most credible witnesses on such a subject. What, then, 
do these writings teach ? I answer, Their testimony is 
clear and full. We learn from them, not only that the 
Gospels existed in those times, but that they were wide- 
ly diffused, that they were received as the writings of 
the men whose names they bear, and that they were re- 
garded with a confidence and veneration yielded to no 
other books. They are quoted as books given by their 



128 EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 

revered authors to the Christian community, to be public 
and enduring records of the religion ; and they are 
spoken of as read in the assemblies which were held for 
the inculcation and extension of the faith. I ask you to 
weigh this testimony. It comes to us from times con- 
nected intimately with the first age. Had the Gospels 
been invented and first circulated among the generation 
which succeeded the Apostles, could that generation 
have received them, as books known and honored before 
their time, and as the most authoritative and precious 
records transmitted to them from their fathers and pre- 
decessors ? The case may seem too plain to require 
explanation ; but as many are unaccustomed to inquiries 
of this kind, I will offer an example. You well know, 
that nearly a century ago a great religious excitement 
was spread through this country chiefly by the ministry 
of Whitefield. Suppose now that four books were at 
this moment to come forth, bearing the names of four of 
the most distinguished men of that period, of White- 
field, of the venerable Edwards, and of two others inti- 
mately associated with them in their religious labors ; 
and suppose these books not only to furnish narratives 
of what then took place, but to contain principles and 
rules urged with all possible earnestness and authority on 
the disciples or admirers of these religious leaders. Do 
you think it possible that their followers of the present 
day, and the public, could be made to believe, that these 
books had been published by their pretended authors, 
had been given as standards to a religious community, 
and had been handed down as venerated books, when 
no such works had been heard of before ? This is but a 
faint illustration ; for Whitefield and Edwards are names 
of little weight or authority, compared with what the 
Apostles possessed in the primitive church. 



EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 129 

We have, then, strong and sufficient reasons for be- 
lieving that the histories called Gospels were received, 
in the times of the Apostles, as works of those whose 
names they bear ; and were handed down as theirs with 
veneration by their contemporaries. Will any say that 
all this may be true, but that, during the lives of the 
Apostles, books forged in their names may have ob- 
tained general currency ? To this extravagant supposi- 
tion it would be sufficient to reply, according to my pre- 
vious remarks, that the general ascription of a book to 
an author during his life, is the ground on which the gen- 
uineness of the most unquestioned works depends. But 
I would add, that this evidence is singularly conclusive 
in the present case. The original propagators of Chris- 
tianity, to whom the Gospels were ascribed, were, from 
their office, among the public men of their age. They 
must have travelled extensively. They must have been 
consulted by inhabitants of various countries on the sub- 
ject of the new religion. They must have been objects 
of deep interest to the first converts. They lived in the 
world's eye. Their movements, visits, actions, words, 
and writings, must have awakened attention. Books 
from their hands must have produced a great sensation. 
We cannot conceive a harder task, than to impose writ- 
ings, forged in their name, on Christians and Christian 
communities, thus intimately connected with them, and 
so alive to their efforts for the general cause. The op- 
portunities of detecting the falsehood were abundant ; 
and to imagine falsehood to prosper under such circum- 
stances, argues a strange ignorance of literary history 
and of human nature. 

Let me add, that the motives of the first Christians, 
to ascertain distinctly whether writings ascribed to the 

30 



130 EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 

Apostles were truly theirs, were the strongest which can 
be conceived. I have mentioned, in my previous re- 
marks, the solicitude of the world to learn the author of 
" Waverley." The motive was mere curiosity ; and yet 
to what earnest inquiries were multitudes impelled. The 
name of the author was of little or no moment. The 
book was the same, its portraits equally vivid, its dev el- 
opements of the human heart equally true and powerful, 
whether the author were known or not. So it is with 
most works. Books of science, philosophy, morals, 
and polite literature, owe their importance and authori- 
ty, not to their writers, but to their contents. Now, the 
four Gospels were different in this respect. They were 
net the same to the first converts, come from whom they 
might. If written by Apostles or by their associates, 
they had an authority and sacredness, which could be- 
long to them on no other condition. They became 
books of laws to the Christian community, became 
binding on their consciences and lives. To suppose 
such books received blindly and without inquiry, by 
great numbers who had all the means of ascertaining 
their true origin, is to suppose the first converts insane 
or idiots, a charge which I believe their worst enemies 
will not think of urging against them, and which the 
vast superiority of their religious and moral system to 
all the philosophical systems of the times abundantly 
disproves. 

I have now finished what is called the historical or 
external evidence of the genuineness of the four Gos- 
pels ; that is. the evidence drawn from their being re- 
ceived and revered as the writings of the Apostles in the 
first and succeeding ages of Christianity. But before 
leaving this head, I would notice a difficulty which may 



EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 131 

press on some minds. I suppose, that many of you 
have heard, that very early, probably about the begin- 
ning of the second century, writings were forged in the 
name of the Apostles ; and some may ask why the four 
Gospels may not belong to this description. The answer 
is, that the Gospels, as we have seen, were received and 
honored by the great body of Christians, in the first and 
succeeding ages of Christianity, as writings of Apostles 
or their associates. The forgeries are known to be for- 
geries, because they were not so received, because they 
were held in no veneration, but were rejected as fictitious 
by the Christian community. Here is a broad line of 
distinction. It must not surprise us, that in the great 
excitement produced by the first publication and tri- 
umphs of Christianity, a variety of extravagant notions 
should spring up, and that attempts should be made to 
blend the new religion with established systems ; and as 
the names of the first propagators of the Gospel were 
held in peculiar reverence, we cannot wonder that the 
leaders of sects should strive to attach an apostolic 
sanction to their opinions, by sending abroad partly true 
and partly false accounts of the preaching of these emi- 
nent men. Whether these writings were sent forth as 
compositions of the Apostles, or only as records of 
their teaching, made by their hearers, is a question open 
to debate ; but as to their origin there can be little 
doubt. We can account for their existence, and for the 
degree of favor which they obtained. They were gen- 
erally written to give authority to the dreams or specula- 
tions of some extravagant sects, to which they were 
very much confined, and with which most of them 
passed away. There is not a shadow of reason for 
confounding with these our Gospels, which were spread 



132 EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 

from the beginning through the Christian world, anc 
were honored and transmitted as the works of the ven 
erated men by whose names the) r were called. 

Having now given the historical argument in favor ot 
the genuineness of the Gospels, that is, in favor of then 
being written by their reputed authors, I now add, that 
there are several presumptive and internal proofs of the 
same truth, which, taken alone, have great weight, and, 
when connected with the preceding, form an amount of 
evidence not easily withstood. I have time to glance at 
only a few. of these. 

It is a presumption in favor of the claims of an 
author, that the book ascribed to him has never been 
assigned to any other individual. Now I am not aware, 
that unbelief has in any age named any individuals, to 
whom the Gospels may be traced rather than to those 
whose names they bear. We are not called upon to 
choose between different writers. In common cases, 
this absence of rival claims is considered as decisive in 
favor of the reputed author, unless the books themselves 
give ground to suspect another hand. Why shall not 
this principle be applied to the Gospels as well as to all 
other works ? 

Another presumption in favor of the belief that these 
histories were written by the first propagators of Chris- 
tianity, arises from the consideration, that such books 
were to be expected from them. It is hardly conceiva- 
ble that the Apostles, whose zeal carried abroad their 
system through so many nations, and who lived in an 
age of reading and writing, should leave their doctrines 
to tradition, should neglect the ordinary precaution of 
embodying them in the only permanent form, the only 
one in which they could be accurately transmitted, and 



EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 133 

by which all other systems were preserved. It is rea- 
sonable to suppose that they wro j what they taught ; 
and if so, it is hardly possible that their writings should 
be lost. Their accounts must have been received and 
treasured up just as we know the Gospels were cher- 
ished ; and hence arises a strong presumption in favor 
of the genuineness of these books. 

Again ; these books carry one strong mark of having 
been written in the time of the Apostles. They contain 
no trace of later times, nothing to indicate that the 
authors belonged to another age. Now to those of 
you, who are acquainted with such subjects, it is hardly 
necessary to observe, how difficult it is for a writer to 
avoid betraying the period in which he lives ; and the 
cause is very obvious. Every age has its peculiarities, 
has manners, events, feelings, words, phrases of its 
own ; and a man brought up among these falls so na- 
turally under their influence, and incorporates them so 
fully with his own mind, that they break out and mani- 
fest themselves, almost necessarily and without his con- 
sciousness, in his words and writings. The present 
makes an impression incomparably more vivid than the 
past, and accordingly traces of the real age of a writer 
may almost always be discovered by a critical eye, 
however anxious he may be to assume the style and 
character of a preceding age. Now the Gospels betray 
no marks of the feelings, manners, contentions, events 
of a period later than that in which the Apostles lived ; 
and when we consider, that, with the exception of Luke's 
history, they have all the appearance of having come 
from plain men, unused to composition, this argument 
applies to them with peculiar force. Under this head, 
T might place before you the evidence of the genuine- 
30* l 



134 EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 

ness of these books derived from the language, dialect, 
idiom, in which they are written. You can easily under- 
stand, that by these helps the country and age of a 
writing may often be traced ; but the argument belongs 
to the learned. It may however be satisfactory to 
know, that the profoundest scholars see in the dialect 
and idiom of the Gospels, a precise accordance with 
what might be expected of Jews, writing in the age of 
the Apostles. 

Another internal proof, and one within the reach of 
all, may be gathered from the style and character of 
the evangelical narratives. They are written w T ith the 
simplicity, minuteness, and ease, which are the natural 
tones of truth, which belong to writers thoroughly ac- 
quainted with their subjects, and writing from reality. 
You discover in them nothing of the labor, caution, 
and indistinctness, which can scarcely be escaped by 
men who are assuming a character not their own, and 
aiming to impose on the world. There is a difference 
which we have all discerned and felt, though we cannot 
describe it, between an honest, simple-hearted witness, 
who tells what he has seen or is intimately acquainted 
with, and the false witness, who affects an intimate 
knowledge of events and individuals, which are in whole 
or in part his own fabrication. Truth has a native 
frankness, an unaffected freedom, a style and air of its 
own, and never were narratives more strongly charac- 
terized by these than the Gospels. It is a striking 
circumstance in these books, that whilst the life and 
character which they portray, are the most extraordi- 
nary in history, the style is the most artless. There is 
no straining for epithets or for elevation of language to 
■3;iit the dignity of the great personage who is the sub- 



EVIDENCES OF CfHtlSTIANITY. 135 

ject. You hear plain men telling you what they know, 
of a character which they venerated too much to think 
of adorning or extolling. It is also worthy of remark, 
that the character of Jesus, though the most peculiar 
and exalted in history, though the last to be invented 
and the hardest to be sustained, is yet unfolded through 
a great variety of details and conditions, with perfect 
unity and consistency. The strength of this proof can 
only be understood by those who are sufficiently ac- 
quainted with literary history, to appreciate the difficulty 
of accomplishing a consistent and successful forgery 
Such consistency is, in the present case, an almost in- 
fallible test. Suppose four writers, of a later age, to 
have leagued together in the scheme of personating the 
first propagators of Christianity, and of weaving, in 
their name, the histories of their Master's life. Re- 
moved as these men would have been from the original, 
and having no model or type of his character in the 
elevation of their own minds, they must have portrayed 
him with an unsteady hand, must have marred their 
work with incongruous features, must have brought 
down their hero on some occasion to the ordinary views 
and feelings of men, and in particular must have been 
warped in their selection and representation of incidents 
by the private purpose which led them to this singular 
cooperation. That four writers, under such circum- 
stances, should sustain throughout so peculiar and ele- 
vated a character as Jesus, and should harmonize with 
each other in the delineation, would be a prodigy which 
no genius, however preeminent, could achieve. I say, 
then, that the narratives bear strong internal marks of 
having been drawn from the living original, by thos* 3 
who had the best means of knowing his character and 
life. 



136 EVIDENCES OP CHRISTIANITY. 

So various, strong, sufficient are the proofs that th© 
four Gospels are the works of the first preachers of 
Christianity, whose name they bear. I will only add, 
that the genuineness of few ancient books is supported 
by proofs equally strong. Most of the works, which 
have come down to us from antiquity, and which are 
ascribed to their reputed writers with undoubting con- 
fidence, are so ascribed on evidence inferior to that on 
which the claims of the Evangelists rest. On this point 
therefore not a doubt should remain. 

Here I pause. The proofs of Christianity, which are 
involved in or founded on the facts now established,, 
will be the subjects of future discussion. 



EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIAN!! Y. 137 



PART II. 

I have now stated some of the great facts relating 
to the origin of Christianity, of which we have clear 
and full proof. We know when and where this religion 
sprung up. We know its Author, and the men whom 
he employed as the first propagators of his doctrine. 
We know the great features of the religion as it was 
originally taught ; and still more, we have the writings 
of its first teachers, by which its precise character is 
placed beyond doubt. I now proceed to lay before you 
some of the arguments in support of Christianity, which 
are involved in or are founded on these facts. I must 
confine myself to a few, and will select those to which 
some justice may be done in the compass of a dis- 
course. 

I. I believe Christianity to be true, or to have come 
from God, because it seems to me impossible to trace 
it to any other origin. It must have had a cause, and 
no other adequate cause can be assigned. The incon- 
gruity between this religion and all the circumstances 
amidst which it grew up, is so remarkable, that we are 
compelled to look beyond and above this world for its 
explanation. When I go back to the origin of Chris- 
tianity, and . place myself in the age and country of its 
birth, I can find nothing in the opinions of men, or in 
the state of society, which can account for its begin- 
ning or diffusion. There was no power on earth to 

L* 



rss 



EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 



create or uphold such a system. There was nothing 
congenial with it in Judaism, in heathenism, or in the 
state of society among the most cultivated communities. 
If you study the religions, governments, and philosoph- 
ical systems of that age, you will discover in them 
not even a leaning towards Christianity. It sprung 
up in opposition to all, making no compromise with 
human prejudice or passion ; and it sprung up, not 
only superior to all, but possessing at its very beginning 
a perfection, which has been the admiration of ages, 
and which, instead of being dimmed by time, has come 
forth more brightly, in proportion to the progress of 
the human mind. 

I know, indeed, that, at the origin of our religion, 
the old heathen worship had fallen into disrepute among 
the enlightened classes through the Roman Empire, and 
was gradually losing its hold on the populace. Accord- 
ingly some have pretended that Christianity grew from 
the ruins of the ancient faith. But this is not true ; 
for the decline of the heathen systems was the product 
of causes singularly adverse to the origination of such a 
system as Christianity. One cause was the monstrous 
depravity of the age, which led multitudes to an utter 
scorn of religion in all its forms and restraints, and 
which prepared others to exchange their old worship 
for still grosser and more licentious superstitions, par- 
ticularly for the magical arts cf Egypt. Surely this 
conuption of manners, this wide-wasting moral pesti- 
lence, will not be considered by any as a germ of the 
Christian religion. Another principal agent in loosen- 
ing the foundations of the old systems, was Philosophy, 
a noble effort indeed of the human intellect, but one 
which did nothing to prepare the way for Christianity. 



EVIDENCES OP CHRISTIANITY. 139 

The most popular systems of philosophy at the birth 
of Christianity were the Skeptical and the Epicurean, 
the former of which turned religion into a jest, denied 
the possibility of arriving at truth, and cast the mind on 
an ocean of doubt in regard to every subject of inquiry ; 
whilst the latter placed happiness in ease, inculcated a 
calm indifference both as to this world and the next, 
and would have set down the Christian doctrine of self- 
sacrifice, of suffering for truth and duty, as absolute in- 
sanity. Now I ask in what single point do these sys- 
tems touch Christianity, or what impulse could they 
have given to its invention. There was indeed another 
philosophical sect of a nobler character ; I mean the 
Stoical. This maintained that virtue was the supreme 
good, and it certainly nurtured some firm and lofty spir- 
its amidst the despotism which then ground all classes 
in the dust. But the self-reliance, sternness, apathy, 
and pride of the Stoic, his defiance and- scorn of man- 
kind, his want of sympathy with human suffering, and 
his extravagant exaggerations of his own virtue, placed 
this sect in singular opposition to Christianity ; so that 
our religion might as soon have sprung from Skepticism 
and Epicureanism, as from Stoicism. There was anoth- 
er system, if it be worthy of the name, which prevailed 
in Asia, and was not unknown to the Jews, often called 
the Oriental philosophy. But this, though certainly an 
improvement on the common heathenism, was visionary 
and mystical, and placed happiness in an intuition or 
immediate perception of God, which was to be gained 
by contemplation and ecstasies, by emaciation of the 
body, and desertion of the world. I need not tell you 
how infinitely removed was the practical, benevolent 
spirit of Christianity, from this spurious sanctity and 



140 EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 

profitless enthusiasm. I repeat it, then, that the various 
causes which were silently operating against the estab- 
lished heathen systems in the time of Christ, had no 
tendency to suggest and spread such a religion as he 
brought, but were as truly hostile to it as the worst 
forms of heathenism. 

We cannot find, then, the origin of Christianity in 
the heathen world. Shall we look for it in the Jewish ? 
This topic is too familiar to need much exposition. 
You know the character, feelings, expectations of the de- 
scendants of Abraham at the appearing of Jesus ; and 
you need not be told, that a system, more opposed to 
the Jewish mind than that which he taught, cannot be 
imagined. There was nothing friendly to it in the soil 
or climate of Judea. As easily might the luxuriant 
trees of our forest spring from the sands of an Arabian 
desert. There was never perhaps a national character 
so deeply stamped as the Jewish. Ages after ages of 
unparalleled suffering have done little to wear away its 
indelible features. In the time of Jesus the whole in- 
fluence of education and religion was employed to fix it 
in every member of the state. In the bosom of this 
community, and among its humblest classes, sprung up 
Christianity, a religion as unfettered by Jewish prejudi- 
ces, as untainted by the earthly, narrow views of the 
age, as if it had come from another world. Judaism 
was all around it, but did not mar it by one trace, or 
sully its brightness by a single breath. Can we find, 
then, the cause of Christianity in the Jewish any more 
than in the heathen world ? 

Christianity, I maintain, was not the growth of any 
of the circumstances, principles, or feelings of the age 
in which it appeared. In truth, one* of the great dis- 



fcVlUJUNCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 141 

tinctions of the Gospel is, that it did not grow. The 
conception, which filled the mind of Jesus, of a religion 
more spiritual, generous, comprehensive, and unworldly 
than Judaism, and destined to take its place, was not of 
gradual formation. We detect no signs of it, and no 
efforts to realize it, before his time ; nor is there an ap- 
pearance of its having been gradually matured by Jesus 
himself. Christianity was delivered from the first in its 
full proportions, in a style of singular freedom and bold- 
ness, and without a mark of painful elaboration. This 
suddenness with which this religion broke forth, this 
maturity of the system at the very moment of its birth, 
this absence of gradual developement, seems to me a 
strong mark of its divine original. If Christianity be a 
human invention, then I can be pointed to something in 
the history of the age which impelled and fitted the mind 
of its author to its production ; then I shall be able to 
find some germ of it, some approximation to it, in the 
state of things amidst which it first appeared. How was 
it, that from thick darkness there burst forth at once 
meridian light ? Were I told that the sciences of the 
civilized world had sprung up to perfection at once, 
amidst a barbarous horde, I should pronounce it incredi- 
ble. Nor can I easily believe, that Christianity, the re- 
ligion of unbounded love, a religion which broke down 
the barrier between Jew and Gentile, and the barriers be- 
tween nations, which proclaimed one Universal Father, 
which abolished forms and substituted the worship of the 
soul, which condemned alike the false greatness of the 
Roman and the false holiness of the Jew, and which 
taught an elevation of virtue, that the growing knowledge 
of succeeding ages has made more admirable; — I say, 
1 cannot easily believe that such a religion was suddenly, 

3X 



142 EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 

immediately struck out by human ingenuity, among a 
people distinguished by bigotry and narrowness of spirit, 
by superstitious reliance on outward worship, by hatred 
and scorn of other nations, and by the proud, impatient 
hope of soon bending all nations to their sway. 

Christianity, I repeat it, was not the growth of the 
age in which it appeared. It had no sympathy with that 
age. It was the echo of no sect or people. It stood 
alone at the moment of its birth. It used not a word of 
conciliation. It stooped to no error or passion. It had 
its own tone, the tone of authority and superiority to the 
world. It struck at the root of what was everywhere 
called glory, reversed the judgments of all former ages, 
passed a condemning sentence on the idols of this 
world's admiration, and held forth, as the perfection of 
human nature, a spirit of love, so pure and divine, so 
free and full, so mild and forgiving, so invincible in forti- 
tude yet so .tender in its sympathies, that even now few 
comprehend it in its extent and elevation. Such a reli- 
gion had not its origin in this world. 

I have thus sought to unfold one of the evidences of 
Christianity- Its incongruity with the age of its birth, its 
freedom from earthly mixtures, its original, unborrowed, 
solitary greatness, and the suddenness with which it 
broke forth amidst the general gloom, these are to me 
strong indications of its divine descent. I cannot recon- 
cile them with a human origin. 

II. Having stated the argument in favor of Christiani- 
ty, derived from the impossibility of accounting for it 
by the state of the world at the time of its birth, I pro- 
ceed, in the second place, to observe, that it cannot be 
accounted for by any of the motives which instigate men 



EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 143 

to the fabrication of religions. Its aims and objects are 
utterly irreconcilable with imposture. They are pure, 
lofty, and worthy of the most illustrious delegate of 
heaven. This argument deserves to be unfolded with 
some particularity. 

Men act from Motives. The inventors of religions 
have purposes to answer by them. Some systems have 
been framed by legislators to procure reverence to 
their laws, to bow the minds of the people to the civil 
power ; and some have been forged by priests, to estab- 
lish their sway over the multitude, to form themselves 
into a dominant caste, and to extort the wealth of the 
industrious. Now I affirm, that Christianity cannot 
be ascribed to any selfish, ambitious, earthly motive. 
It is suited to no private end. Its purpose is generous 
and elevated, and thus bears witness to its heavenly 
origin. 

The great object which has seduced men to pretend 
to inspiration, and to spread false religions, has been 
Power, in one form or another, sometimes political 
power, sometimes spiritual, sometimes both. Is Chris- 
tianity to be explained by this selfish aim ? I answer, 
No. I affirm that the love of power is the last princi- 
ple to be charged on the Founder of our religion. 
Christianity is distinguished by nothing more than by its 
earnest enforcement of a meek and humble spirit, and 
by its uncompromising reprobation of that passion for 
dominion, which had in all ages made the many the prey 
of the few, and had been worshipped as the attribute 
and impulse of the greatest minds. Its tone on this 
subject was original, and altogether its own. Jesus felt, 
as none had felt before, and as few feel now, the base- 
ness of selfish ambition, and the grandeur of that benev- 



144 EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 

olence which waves every mark of superiority, that it 
may more effectually bless mankind. He taught this 
lesson, not only in the boldest language, but, accom- 
modating himself to the emblematical mode of religious 
instruction prevalent in the East, he set before his disci- 
ples a little child as their pattern, and himself washed 
their feet. His whole life was a commentary on his 
teaching. Not a trace of the passion for distinction and 
sway can be detected in the artless narratives of his 
historians. He wore no badge of superiority, exact- 
ed no signs of homage, coveted no attentions, resented 
no neglect. He discouraged the ruler who prostrated 
himself before him with flattering salutations, but re- 
ceived with affectionate sensibility the penitent who 
bathed his feet with her tears. He lived with his ob- 
scure disciples as a friend, and mixed freely with all 
ranks of the community. He placed himself in the way 
of scorn, and advanced to meet a death, more suited 
than any other imaginable event, to entail infamy on his 
name. Stronger marks of an infinite superiority to what 
the world calls glory, cannot be conceived than we meet 
in the history of Jesus. 

I have named two kinds of power, Political and 
Spiritual, as the ordinary objects of false religions. I 
wish to show you more particularly the elevation of 
Christianity above these aims. That the Gospel was 
not framed for political purposes, is too plain to re- 
quire proof ; but its peculiarity in this respect is not 
sufficiently considered. In ancient times, religion was 
everywhere a national concern. In Judea the union 
between religion and government was singularly close , 
and political sovereignty was one of the chief splen- 
dors, with which the Jewish imagination had surround- 



EVIDENCES OF CHKISTIANITY. 145 

ed the expected Messiah. That in such an age and 
country, a religion should arise, which hardly seems to 
know that government exists ; which makes no refer- 
ence to it except in a kw general inculcations of obedi- 
ence to the civil powers ; which says not a word nor 
throws out a hint of allying itself with the state ; which 
assumes to itself no" control of political affairs, and in- 
termeddles with no public concerns ; which has no ten- 
dency, however indirect, to accumulate power in partic- 
ular hands ; which provides no form of national worship 
as a substitute for those which it was intended to de- 
stroy ; and which treats the distinctions of rank and 
office as worthless in comparison with moral influence 
and an unostentatious charity ; — that such a religion 
should spring up in such a state of the world is a re- 
markable fact. We here see a broad line between 
Christianity and other systems, and a striking proof of 
its originality and elevation. Other systems were framed 
for communities ; Christianity approached men as In- 
dividuals. It proposed, not the glory of the state, but 
the perfection of the individual mind. So far from be- 
ing contrived to build up political power, Christianity 
tends to reduce and gradually to supplant it, by teaching 
men to substitute the sway of truth and love for menace 
and force, by spreading through all ranks a feeling of 
brotherhood altogether opposed to the spirit of domina- 
tion, and by establishing principles which nourish self- 
respect in every human being, and teach the obscurest 
to look with an undazzled eye on the most powerful of 
their race. 

Christianity bears no mark of the hands of a poli- 
tician. One of its main purposes is to extinguish the 
very spirit which the ambitious statesman most anxiously 
31* M 



146 EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 

cherishes, and on which he founds his success. It pro- 
scribes a narrow patriotism, shows no mercy to the 
spirit of conquest, requires its disciples to love other 
countries as truly as their own, and enjoins a spirit of 
peace and forbearance in language so broad and earnest, 
that not a few of its professors consider war in every 
shape and under all circumstances as a crime. The 
hostility between Christianity and all the political max- 
ims of that age, cannot easily be comprehended at the 
present day. No doctrines were then so rooted, as, 
that conquest was the chief interest of a nation, and 
that an exclusive patriotism was the first and noblest 
of social virtues. Christianity, in loosening the tie 
which bound man to the state, that it might connect 
him with his race, opposed itself to what was deemed 
the vital principle of national safety and grandeur, and 
commenced a political revolution as original and un- 
sparing as the religious and moral reform at which it 
aimed. 

Christianity, then, was not framed for political pur- 
poses. But I shall be asked, whether it stands equally 
clear of the charge of being intended to accumulate 
Spiritual power. Some may ask, whether its founder 
was not instigated by the passion for religious domina- 
tion, whether he did not aim to subdue men's minds, 
to dictate to the faith of the world, to make himself the 
leader of a spreading sect, to stamp his name as a pro- 
phet on human history, and thus to secure the prostra- 
tion, of multitudes to his will, more abject and entire 
than kings and conquerors can achieve. 

To this I might reply by what I have said of the 
character of Jesus, and of the spirit, of his religion. 
It is plain, that the founder of Christianity had a per- 



EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 147 

ception, quite peculiar to himself, of the moral beauty 
and greatness of a disinterested, meek, and self-sacri- 
ficing spirit, and such a person was not likely to medi- 
tate the subjugation of the world to himself. But, 
leaving this topic, I observe, that on examining Chris- 
tianity we discover none of the features of a religion 
framed for spiritual domination. One of the infallible 
marks of such a system is, that it makes some terms 
with the passions and prejudices of men. It does not, 
cannot provoke and ally against itself all' the powers, 
whether civil or religious, of the world. Christianity 
was throughout uncompromising and exasperating, and 
threw itself in the way of hatred and scorn. Such a 
system was any thing but a scheme for seizing the 
spiritual empire of the world. 

There is another mark of a religion which springs 
from the love of spiritual domination. It infuses a 
servile spirit. Its author, desirous to stamp his name 
and image on his followers, has an interest in curbing 
the free action of their minds, imposes on them arbi- 
trary doctrines, fastens on them badges which may 
separate them from others, and besets them with rules, 
forms, and distinctive observances, which may per- 
petually remind them of their relation to their chief. 
Now I see nothing in Christianity of this enslaving 
legislation. It has but one aim, which is, not to exalt 
its teacher, but to improve the disciple ; not to fasten 
Christ's name on mankind, but to breathe into them 
his spirit of universal love. Christianity is not a re- 
ligion of forms. It has but two ceremonies, as simple 
as they are expressive ; and these hold so subordinate 
a place in the New Testament, that some of the best 
Christians question or deny their permanent obligation. 



148 EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY . 

Neither is it a narrow creed, or a mass of doctrines 
which find no support in our rational nature. It may 
be summed up in a few great, universal, immutable prin- 
ciples, which reason and conscience, as far as they are 
unfolded, adopt and rejoice in, as their own everlasting 
laws, and which open perpetually enlarging views to 
the mind. As far as I am a Christian, I am free. My 
religion lays on me not one chain. It does not pre- 
scribe a certain range for my mind, beyond which noth- 
ing can be learned. It speaks of God as the Universal 
Father, and sends me to all his works for instruction. 
It does not hem me round with a mechanical ritual, 
does not enjoin forms, attitudes, and hours of prayer, 
does not descend to details of dress and food, does 
not put on me one outward badge. It teaches and 
enkindles love to God, but commands no precise ex- 
pressions of this sentiment. It prescribes prayer ; but 
lays the chief stress on the prayer of the closet, and 
treats all worship as worthless but that of the mind and 
heart. It teaches us to do good, but leaves us to de- 
vise for ourselves the means by which we may best 
serve mankind. In a word, the whole religion of Christ 
may be summed up in the love of God and of man- 
kind, and it leaves the individual to cherish and express 
this spirit by the methods most accordant with his own 
condition and peculiar mind. Christianity is eminent])- 
the religion of freedom. The views which it gives of 
the parental, impartial, universal goodness of God, and 
of the equal right of every human being to inquire into 
his will, and its inculcations of candor, forbearance, 
and mutual respect, contribute alike to freedom of 
thought and enlargement of the heart. I repeat it, 
Christianity lays on me no chains. It is any thing but 
B contrivance for spiritual domination. 



EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 149 

I am aware that I shall be told, that Christianity, if 
judged by its history, has no claim to the honorable 
title of a religion of liberty. I shall be told, that no 
system of heathenism ever weighed more oppressively 
on men's souls ; that the Christian ministry has trained 
tyrants, who have tortured, now the body with material 
fire, and now the mind with the dread of fiercer flames, 
and who have proscribed and punished free thought and 
free speech as the worst of crimes. I have no disposi- 
tion to soften the features of priestly oppression ; but 
I say, let not Christianity be made to answer for it. 
Christianity gives its ministers no such power. They 
have usurped it in the face of the sternest prohibitions, 
and in opposition to the whole spirit of their Master. 
Christianity institutes no priesthood, in the original and 
proper sense of that word. Tt has not the name of 
priest among its officers ; nor does it confer a shadow 
of priestly power. It invests no class of men with pe- 
culiar sanctity, ascribing to their intercessions a special 
influence over God, or suspending the salvation of the 
private Christian on ceremonies which they alone can 
administer. Jesus indeed appointed twelve of his im- 
mediate disciples to be the great instruments of pro- 
pagating his religion ; but nothing can be simpler than 
their office. They went forth to make known through 
all nations the life, death, resurrection, and teachings 
of Jesus Christ ; and this truth they spread freely and 
without reserve. They did not give it as a mystery 
to a few who were to succeed them in their office, and 
according to whose direction it was to be imparted to 
others. They communicated it to the whole body of 
converts, to be their equal and common property, thus 
securing to all the invaluable rights of the mind. It 



150 EVIDENCES OP CHRISTIANITY. 

is true, they appointed ministers or teachers in the 
various congregations which they formed ; and in that 
early age, when the religion was new and unknown, and 
when oral teaching was the only mode of communicating 
it, there seems to have been no way for its diffusion 
but this appointment of the most enlightened disciples 
to the work of instruction. But the New Testament 
nowhere intimates, that these men were to monopolize 
the privilege of studying their religion, or of teaching 
it to others. Not a single man can claim under Chris- 
tianity the right to interpret it exclusively, or to impose 
his interpretation on his brethren. The Christian min- 
ister enjoys no nearer access to God, and no promise 
of more immediate . illumination, than other men. He 
is not intrusted with the Christian records more than 
they, and by these records it is both their right and duty 
to try his instructions. I have here pointed out a noble 
peculiarity of Christianity. It is the religion of liberty. 
It is in no degree tainted with the passion for spiritual 
power. "Call no man master, for ye are all brethren," 
is its free and generous inculcation, and to every form 
of freedom it is a friend and defence. 

We have seen that Christianity is not to be traced to 
the love of power, that master passion in the authors of 
false religions. I add, that no other object of a selfish 
nature could have led to its invention. The Gospel is 
not of this world. At the time of its origin no inge- 
nuity could have brought it to bear on any private or 
worldly interest. Its spirit is self-denial. Wealth, ease, 
and honor, it counts among the chief perils of life, and 
it insists on no duty more earnestly than on that of put- 
ting them to hazard and casting them from us, if the 
cause of truth and humanity so require. And these 



EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 151 

maxims were not mere speculations or rhetorical com- 
monplaces in the times of Christ and his Apostles 
The first propagators of Christianity were called upon 
to practise what they preached, to forego every interest 
on its account. They could not but foreknow, that 
a religion so uncompromising and pure would array 
against them the world. They did not merely take the 
chance of suffering, but were sure that the whole weight 
of scorn, pain, and worldly persecution would descend 
on their heads. How inexplicable, then, is Christianity 
by any selfish object, or any low aim ? 

The Gospel has but one object, and that too plain 
to be mistaken. In reading the New Testament, we 
see the greatest simplicity of aim. There is no lurking 
purpose, no by-end, betraying itself through attempts 
to disguise it. A perfect singleness of design runs 
through the records of the religion, and is no mean 
evidence of their truth. This end of Christianity is 
the moral perfection of the human soul. It aims and 
it tends, in all its doctrines, precepts, and promises, to 
rescue men from the power of moral evil ; to unite them 
to God by filial love, and to one another in the bonds 
of brotherhood ; to inspire them with a philanthropy 
as meek and unconquerable as that of Christ ; and to 
kindle intense desire, hope, and pursuit of celestial and 
immortal virtue. 

And now, I ask, what is the plain inference from 
these views ? If Christianity can be traced to no self- 
ish or worldly motive, if it was framed, not for domin- 
ion, not to compass any private purpose, but to raise 
men above themselves, and to conform them to God, 
can we help pronouncing it worthy of God ? And to 
wrhom but to God can we refer its origin ? Ought we 



152 EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 

not to recognise in the first propagators of such a faith 
the holiest of men, the friends of their race, and the 
messengers of Heaven ? Christianity, from its very 
nature, repels the charge of imposture. It carries in 
itself the proof of pure intention. Bad men could not 
have conceived it, much less have adopted it as the 
great object of their lives. The supposition of selfish 
men giving up every private interest to spread a system 
which condemned themselves, and which tended only 
to purify mankind, is an absurdity as gross as can be 
found in the most irrational faith. Christianity, there- 
fore, when tried by its Motives, approves itself to be 
of God. 

III. I now proceed to another and very important 
ground of my belief in the divine origin of Christianity, 
Its truth was attested by miracles. Its first teachers 
proved themselves the ministers of God by supernatural 
w r orks. They did what man cannot do, what bore the 
impress of a divine power, and what thus sealed the 
divinity of their mission. A religion so attested must 
be true. This topic is a great one, and I ask your 
patient attention to it. 

I am aware that a strong prejudice exists in some 
minds against the kind of evidence which I have now 
adduced. Miracles seem to them to carry a confuta- 
tion in themselves. The presumption against them 
seems next to infinite. In this respect, the present 
times differ from the past. There have been ages, 
when men believed any thing and every thing ; and the 
more monstrous the story, the more eagerly was it re- 
ceived by the credulous multitude. In the progress of 
knowledge men have come to see, that most of the prod- 



EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 153 

igies and supernatural events in which their forefathers 
believed, were fictions of fancy, or fear, or imposture. 
The light of knowledge has put to flight the ghosts 
and witches which struck terror into earlier times. We 
now know, that not a few of the appearances in the 
heavens, which appalled nations, and were interpreted 
as precursors of divine vengeance, were natural effects. 
We have learned, too, that a highly excited imagination 
can work some of the cures once ascribed to magic ; 
and the lesson taught us by these natural solutions of 
apparent miracles, is, that accounts of supernatural 
events are to be sifted with great jealousy and received 
with peculiar care. 

But the result of this new light thrown on nature and 
history is, that some are disposed to discredit all mira- 
cles indiscriminately. So many having proved ground- 
less, a sweeping sentence of condemnation is passed on 
all. The human mind, by a natural reaction, has passed 
from extreme credulousness, to the excess of increduli- 
ty. Some persons are even hardy enough to deride the 
very idea of a miracle. They pronounce the order of 
nature something fixed and immutable, and all suspen- 
sions of it incredible. This prejudice, for such it is, 
seems to deserve particular attention ; for, until it is 
removed, the evidences of Christian miracles will have 
little weight. Let us examine it patiently and impar- 
tially. 

The skeptic tells me, that the order of nature is 
fixed. I ask him, By whom or by what is it fixed ? By 
an iron fate ? By an inflexible necessity ? Does not 
nature bear the signatures of an intelligent Cause ? 
Does not the very idea of its order imply an ordaining 
or disposing Mind ? Does not the universe, the more 

32 



154 EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 

it is explored, bear increasing testimony to a Being su- 
perior to itself ? Then the order of nature is fixed by 
a Will which can reverse it. Then a power equal to 
miracles exists. Then miracles are not incredible. 

It may be replied, that God indeed can work mira- 
cles, but that he will not. He will not ? And how 
does the skeptic know this ? Has God so told him ? 
This language does not become a being of our limited 
faculties ; and the presumptuousness which thus makes 
laws for the Creator, and restricts his agency to partic- 
ular modes, is as little the spirit of true philosophy as 
of religion. 

The skeptic sees nothing in miracles, but ground 
of offence. To me, they seem to involve in their very 
nature a truth so great, so vital, that I am not only 
reconciled to them, but am disposed to receive joyfully 
any sufficient proofs of their having been performed. 
To the skeptic, no principle is so important as the uni- 
formity of nature, the constancy of its laws. To me, 
there is a vastly higher truth, to which miracles bear 
witness, and to which I welcome their aid. What I 
wish chiefly to know is, that Mind is the supreme power 
in the universe ; that matter is its instrument and slave ; 
that there is a Will to which nature can offer no ob- 
struction ; that God is unshackled by the laws of the 
universe, and controls them at his pleasure. This abso- 
lute sovereignty of the Divine Mind over the universe, 
is the only foundation of hope for the triumph of the 
human mind over matter, over physical influences, over 
imperfection and death. Now it is plain, that the strong 
impressions which we receive through the senses from 
the material creation, joined to our experience of its 
regularity, and to our instinctive trust in its future uni- 



EVIDENCES OP CHRISTIANITY. 155 

formity, do obscure this supremacy of God, do tempt 
us to ascribe a kind of omnipotence to nature's laws, 
and to limit our hopes to the good which is promised 
by these. There is a strong tendency in men to attach 
the idea of necessity to an unchanging regularity of 
operation, and to imagine bounds to a being who keeps 
one undeviating path, or who repeats himself perpetu- 
ally. Hence, I say that I rejoice in miracles. They 
show and assert the supremacy of Mind in the universe. 
They manifest a spiritual power, which is in no degree 
enthralled by the laws of matter. I rejoice in these 
witnesses to so great a truth. I rejoice in whatever 
proves, that this order of nature, which so often weighs 
on me as a chain, and which contains no promise of 
my perfection, is not supreme and immutable, and that 
the Creator is not restricted to the narrow modes of 
operation with which I am most familiar. 

Perhaps the form in which the objection to miracles 
is most frequently expressed, is the following ; "It is 
derogatory," says the skeptic, " to the perfect wisdom 
of God, to suppose him to break in upon the order of 
his own works. It is only the unskilful artist who is 
obliged to thrust his hand into the machine for the 
purpose of supplying its defects, and of giving it a new 
impulse by an immediate agency." To this objection 
I reply, that it proceeds on false ideas of God and of 
the creation. God is not an artist, but a Moral Parent 
and Governor ; nor is the creation a machine. If it 
vvere, it might be urged with greater speciousness, that 
miracles cannot be needed or required. One of the 
most striking views of the creation, is the contrast 01 
opposition of the elements of which it consists. It in- 
cludes not only matter but mind, not only lifeless and 



156 EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 

unconscious masse;, but rational beings, free agent© ' 
and these are its noblest parts and ultimate objects. 
The material universe was framed not for itself, but for 
these. Its order was not appointed for its own sake, 
but to instruct and improve a higher rank of beings, 
the intelligent offspring of G d ; and whenever a de- 
parture from this order, that is, whenever miraculous 
agency can contribute to the growth and perfection of 
his intelligent creatures, it is demanded by his wisdom, 
goodness, and all his attributes. If the Supreme Being 
proposed only such ends as mechanism can produce, 
then he might have framed a machinery so perfect and 
sure as to need no suspension of its ordinary move- 
ments. But he has an incomparably nobler end. His 
great purpose is to educate, to rescue from evil, to 
carry forward for ever the free, rational mind or soul ; 
and who that understands what a free mind is, and 
what a variety of teaching and discipline it requires, will 
presume to affirm, that do lights or aids, but such as 
come to it through an invariable order of nature, are 
necessary to unfold it r 

Much of the difficulty in regard to miracles, as I 
apprehend, would be removed, if we were to consider 
more particularly, that the chief distinction of intelli- 
gent beings is Moral Freedom, the power of deter- 
mining themselves to evil as well as good, and con- 
sequently the power of involving themselves in great 
misery. When God made man. he framed not a ma- 
chine, but a free being, who was to rise or fall accord- 
ing to his use or abuse of his powers. This capacity., 
at once the most glorious and the most fearful which 
we can conceive, shows us how the human race may 
have come into a condition, to which the illuminaticu 



EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 157 

of nature was inadequate. In truth, the more we con- 
sider the freedom of intelligent beings, the more we 
shall question the possibility of establishing an unchange- 
able order which will meet fully all their wants ; for 
such beings, having of necessity a wide range of action, 
may bring themselves into a vast variety of conditions, 
and of course may come to need a relief not contained 
in the resources of nature. The history of the human 
race illustrates these truths. At the introduction of 
Christianity, the human family were plunged into gross 
and debasing error, and the light of nature had not 
served for ages to guide them back to truth. Philoso- 
phy had done its best, and failed. A new element, a 
new power seems to have been wanting to the progress 
of the race. That in such an exigence miraculous aid 
should be imparted, accords with our best views of 
God. I repeat it ; were men mechanical beings, an 
undeviating order of nature might meet all their wants. 
They are free beings, who bear a moral relation to God, 
and as such may need, and are worthy of, a more 
various and special care than is extended over the irra- 
tional creation. 

When I examine nature, I see reasons for believing 
that it was not intended by God to be the only method 
of instructing and improving mankind. I see reasons, 
as I think, why its order or regular course should be 
occasionally suspended, and why revelation should be 
joined to it in the work of carrying forward the race. 
I can offer only a few considerations on this point, but 
they seem to me worthy of serious attention. — The first 
is, that a fixed, invariable order of nature does not give 
us some views of God which are of great interest and 
importance, or at least it does not give them with that 
32* n 



158 EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 

distinctness which we all desire. It reveals him as the 
Universal Sovereign who provides for the whole or for 
the general weal, but not, with sufficient clearness, as 
a tender father, interested in the Individual. I see, in 
this fixed order, his care of the race, but not his con- 
stant, boundless concern for myself. Nature speaks of 
a general Divinity, not of the friend and benefactor of 
each living soul. This is a necessary defect attending 
an inflexible, unvarying administration by general laws ; 
and it seems to require that God, to carry forward the 
race, should reveal himself by some other manner than 
by general laws. No conviction is more important to 
human improvement than that of God's paternal interest 
in every human being ; and how can he communicate 
this persuasion so effectually, as by suspending nature's 
order, to teach, through an inspired messenger, his pa- 
ternal love ? 

My second remark is, that, whilst nature teaches many 
important lessons, it is not a direct, urgent teacher. 
Its truths are not prominent, and consequently men may 
neglect it, and place themselves beyond its influence. 
For example, nature holds out the doctrine of One 
God, but does not compel attention to it. God's name 
is not written in the sky in letters of light, which all 
nations must read, nor sounded abroad in a voice, deep 
and awful as thunders, so that all must hear. Nature 
is a gentle, I had almost said, a reserved teacher, de- 
manding patient thought in the learner, and may there- 
fore be unheeded. Men may easily shut their ears and 
harden their hearts against its testimony to God. Ac- 
cordingly we learn, that, at Christ's coming, almost all 
nations had lost the knowledge of the true glory of the 
Creator, and given themselves up to gross superstitions. 



EVIDENCES OP CHRISTIANITY. 159 

To such a condition of the world, nature's indirect and 
unimposing mode of instruction is not fitted, and thus it 
furnishes a reason for a more immediate and impressive 
teaching. In such a season of moral darkness, was it not 
worthy of God to kindle another and more quickening 
beam ? When the long repeated and almost monotonous 
language of creation was not heard, was it unworthy of 
God to speak with a new and more startling voice ? 
What fitter method was there for rousing those whom 
nature's quiet regularity could not teach, than to inter- 
rupt its usual course ? 

I proceed to another reason for expecting revelation 
to be added to the light of nature. Nature, I have 
said, is not a direct or urgent teacher, and men may 
place themselves beyond its voice. I say, thirdly, that 
there is one great point, on which we are deeply con- 
cerned to know the truth, and which is yet taught so 
indistinctly by nature, that men, however disposed to 
learn, cannot by that light alone obtain full conviction. 
What, let me ask, is the question in which each man 
has the deepest interest ? It is this, Are we to live 
again ; or is this life all ? Does the principle of thought 
perish with the body ; or does it survive ? And if it 
survive, where ? how ? in what condition ? under what 
law ? There is an inward voice which speaks of judg- 
ment to come. Will judgment indeed come ? and if so, 
what award may we hope or fear ? The Future state 
of man, this is the great question forced on us by our 
changing life, and by approaching death. I will not 
say, that on this topic nature throws no light. I think 
it does ; and this light continually grows brighter to them 
whose eyes revelation has couched and made strong 
to see. But nature alone does not meet our wants. I 



160 EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 

might prove this by referring you to the ages preced- 
ing Christ, when the anxious spirit of man constantly 
sought to penetrate the gloom beyond the grave, when 
imagination and philosophy alike plunged into the future, 
but found no resting-place. But every man must feel, 
that, left to nature as his only guide, he must wander in 
doubt as to the life to come. Where, but from God 
himself, can I learn my destination? I ask at the 
mouth of the tomb for intelligence of the departed, and 
the tomb gives me no reply. I examine the various 
regions of nature, but I can discover no process for 
restoring the mouldering body, and no sign or track of 
the spirit's ascent to another sphere. I see the need 
of a power above nature to restore or perpetuate life 
after death ; and if God intended to give assurance of 
this life, I see not how he can do it but by supernatural 
teaching, by a miraculous revelation. Miracles are the 
appropriate, and would seem to be the only mode of 
placing beyond doubt man's future and immortal being ; 
and no miracles can be conceived so peculiarly adapted 
to this end as the very ones which hold the highest 
place in Christianity, — I mean the resurrection of 
Lazarus, and, still more, the resurrection of Jesus. 
No man will deny, that, of all truths, a future state is 
most strengthening to virtue and consoling to humanity. 
Is it then unworthy of God to employ miracles for the 
awakening or the confirmation of this hope ? May they 
not even be expected, if nature, as we have seen, sheds 
but a faint light on this most interesting of all verities ? 

I add one more consideration in support of the po- 
sition, that nature was not intended to be God's only 
method of teaching mankind. In surveying the human 
mind, we discover a principle which singularly fits it to 



EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 161 

be wrought upon and benefited by miraculous agency, 
nnd which might therefore lead us to expect such in- 
terposition. I refer to that principle of our nature, by 
which we become in a measure insensible or indiffer- 
ent to what is familiar, but are roused to attention and 
deep interest by what is singular, strange, supernatural. 
This principle of wonder is an important part of our 
constitution ; and that God should employ it in the 
work of our education, is what reason might anticipate. 
I see, then, a foundation for miracles in the human 
mind ; and, when 1 consider that the mind is God's no- 
blest work, I ought to look to this as the interpreter 
of his designs. We are plainly so constituted, that the 
order of nature, the more it is fixed, excites us the less. 
Our interest is blunted by its ceaseless uniformity. On 
the contrary, departures from this order powerfully stir 
the soul, break up its old and slumbering habits of 
thought, turn it with a new solicitude to the Almighty 
Interposer, and prepare it to receive with awe the com- 
munications of his will. Was it unworthy of God, who 
gave us this sensibility to the wonderful, to appeal to it 
for the recovery of his creatures to himself ? 

I here close my remarks on the great objection of 
skepticism, that miracles are inconsistent with the divine 
perfections ; that the Supreme Being, having established 
ctn order of operation, cannot be expected to depart 
from it. To me, such reasoning, if reasoning it may be 
called, is of no weight. When I consider God's pa- 
ternal and moral relation to mankind, and his interest in 
their progress ; when I consider how accordant it is 
with his character that he should make himself knr)wn 
to them by methods most fitted to awaken the mind and 
heart to his goodness ; when I consider the need we 



162 EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 

have of illumination in regard to the future life, more dfs* 
tinct and full than the creation affords ; when I consider 
the constitution and condition of man, his free agency? 
and the corruption into which he had fallen ; when I 
consider how little benefit a being so depraved was like- 
ly to derive from an order of nature to which he had 
grown familiar, and how plainly the mind is fitted to be 
quickened by miraculous interposition ; — I say, when 
I take all these things into view, I see, as I think, a 
foundation in nature for supernatural light and aid, and I 
discern in a miraculous revelation, such as Christianity, 
a provision suited at once to the frame and wants of the 
human soul, and to the perfections of its Author. 

There are other objections to miracles, though less 
avowed, than that which I have now considered, yet 
perhaps not less influential, and probably operating on 
many minds so secretly as to be unperceived. At two 
of these I will just glance. Not a few, I am confident? 
have doubts of the Christian miracles, because they see 
none now. Were their skepticism to clothe itself in lan- 
guage, it would say, u Show us miracles, and we will 
believe them. We suspect them, because they are 
confined to the past." Now this objection is a childish 
one. It may be resolved into the principle, that noth- 
ing in the past is worthy of belief, which is not repeated 
in the present. Admit this, and where will incredulity 
stop ? How many forms and institutions of society, 
recorded in ancient history, have passed aw r ay. Has 
history, then, no title to respect ? If indeed the human 
race were standing still, if one age were merely a copy 
of preceding ones, if each had precisely the same wants, 
then the miracles required at one period would be re- 
produced in all. But who does not know that there is a 



EVIDENCES UF CHRISTIANITY. 163 

progress in human affairs ? that formerly mankind were 
in a different stage from that through which they are 
now passing ? that of course the education of the race 
must be varied ? and that miracles, important once, may 
be superfluous now ? Shall we bind the Creator to 
invariable modes of teaching and training a race whose 
capacities and wants are undergoing a perpetual change ? 
Because in periods of thick darkness God introduced a 
new religion by supernatural works, shall we expect 
these works to be repeated, when the darkness is scat- 
tered and their end attained ? Who does not see that 
miracles, from their very nature, must be rare, occa- 
sional, limited ? Would not their power be impaired 
by frequency ? and would it not wholly cease, were 
they so far multiplied as to seem a part of the order of 
nature ? 

The objection I am now considering, shows us the 
true character of skepticism. Skepticism is essentially 
a narrowness of mind, which makes the present moment 
the measure of the past and future. It is the creature 
of sense. In the midst of a boundless universe, it can 
conceive no mode of operation but what falls under 
its immediate observation. The visible, the present, is 
every thing to the unbeliever. Let him but enlarge his 
views ; let him look round on the immensity of the uni- 
verse ; let him consider the infinity of resources which 
are comprehended in omnipotence ; let him represent to 
himself the manifold stages through which the human 
race is appointed to pass ; let him remember that the 
education of the ever-growing mind must require a 
great variety of discipline ; and especially let him admit 
the sublime thought, of w r hich the germ is found in 
nature, that man was created to be trained for, and to 



164 EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 

ascend to, an incomparably higher order of existence 
than the present, — and he will see the childishness of 
making his narrow experience the standard of all that 
is past and is to come in human history. 

It is strange, indeed, that men of science should fall 
into this error. The improved science of the present 
day teaches them, that this globe of ours, which seems 
so unchangeable, is not now what it was a few thousand 
years ago. They find proofs by digging into the earth, 
that this globe was inhabited before the existence of 
the human race, by classes of animals which have per- 
ished, and the ocean peopled by races now unknown, 
and that the human race are occupying a ruined and 
restored world. Men of science should learn to free 
themselves from the vulgar narrowness which sees noth- 
ing in the past but the present, and should learn the 
stupendous and infinite variety of the dispensations of 
God. 

There is another objection to miracles, and the last 
to be now considered, which is drawn from the well- 
known fact, that pretended miracles crowd the pages 
of ancient history. No falsehoods, we are told, have 
been more common than accounts of prodigies, and 
therefore the miraculous character of Christianity is a 
presumption against its truth. I acknowledge that this 
argument has its weight ; and I am ready to say, that, 
did I know nothing of Christianity, but that it was a 
religion full of miracles ; did I know nothing of its 
doctrines, its purpose, its influences, and whole history, 
I should suspect it as much as the unbeliever. There 
is a strong presumption against miracles, considered 
nakedly, or separated from their design and from all 
circumstances which explain and support them. There 



EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 165 

's a like presumption against events not miraculous, but 
of an extraordinary character. But this is only a rea- 
son for severe scrutiny and slow belief, not for resisting 
strong and multiplied proofs. I blame no man for doubt- 
ing a report of miracles when first brought to his ears. 
Thousands of absurd prodigies have been created by 
ignorance and fanaticism, and thousands more been 
forged by imposture. I invite you, then, to try scru- 
pulously the miracles of Christianity ; and, if they bear 
the marks of the superstitious legends of false religions, 
do not spare them. I only ask for them a fair hearing 
and calm investigation. 

It is plainly no sufficient argument for rejecting all 
miracles, that men have believed in many which are 
false. If you go back to the times when miraculous 
stories were swallowed most greedily, and read the 
books then written on history, geography, and natural 
science, you will find all of them crowded with error ; 
but do they therefore contain nothing worthy your trust ? 
Is there not a vein of truth running through the preva- 
lent falsehood ? And cannot a sagacious mind very 
often detach the real from the fictitious, explain the ori- 
gin of many mistakes, distinguish the judicious and hon- 
est from the credulous or interested narrator, and by 
a comparison of testimonies detect the latent truth ? 
Where will you stop, if you start with believing nothing 
on points where former ages have gone astray ? You 
must pronounce all religion and all morality to be delu- 
sion, for on both topics men have grossly erred. Noth- 
ing is more unworthy of a philosopher, than to found a 
universal censure on a limited number of unfavorable 
facts. This is much like the reasoning of the misan- 
thrope, who, because he sees much vice, infers that 

33 



166 EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 

there is no virtue, and, because he has sometimes been 
deceived, pronounces all men hypocrites. 

I maintain that the multiplicity of false miracles, far 
from disproving, gives support to those on which Chris- 
tianity rests ; for, first, there is generally some founda- 
tion for falsehood, especially when it obtains general 
belief. The love of truth is an essential principle of 
human nature ; men generally embrace error on account 
of some precious ingredient of truth mixed with it, and 
for the time inseparable from it. The universal belief 
of past ages in miraculous interpositions, is to me a 
presumption that miracles have entered into human his- 
tory. Will the unbeliever say, that it only shows the 
insatiable thirst of the human mind for the supernatural ? 
I reply, that, in this reasoning, he furnishes a weapon 
against himself; for a strong principle in the human 
mind, impelling men to seek for and to cling to miracu- 
lous agency, affords a presumption that the Author of 
our being, by whom this thirst for the supernatural was 
given, intended to furnish objects for it, and to assign it 
a place in the education of the race. 

But I observe, in the next place, and it is an obser- 
vation of great importance, that the exploded miracles 
of ancient times, if carefully examined, not only furnish 
a general presumption in favor of the existence of gen- 
uine ones, but yield strong proof of the truth of those 
in particular upon which Christianity rests. I say to 
the skeptic, You affirm nothing but truth in declaring 
history to abound in false miracles ; I agree with you 
in exploding by far the greater part of the supernatural 
accounts of which ancient religions boast. But how 
do we know these to be false ? We do not so judge 
without proofs. We discern in them the marks of de- 



EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 167 

lusion. Now I ask you to examine these marks, and 
then to answer me honestly, whether you find them in 
the miracles of Christianity. Is there not a broad line 
between Christ's works and those which we both agree 
in rejecting ? I maintain that there is, and that nothing 
but ignorance can confound the Christian miracles with 
the prodigies of heathenism. The contrast between 
them is so strong as to forbid us to refer them to a com- 
mon origin. The miracles of superstition carry the 
brand of falsehood in their own nature, and are dis- 
proved by the circumstances under which they were 
imposed on the multitude. The objects, for which they 
are said to have been wrought, are such as do not re- 
quire or justify a divine interposition. Many of them 
are absurd, childish, or extravagant, and betray a weak 
intellect or diseased imagination. Many can be ex- 
plained by natural causes. Many are attested by per- 
sons who lived in different countries and ages, and 
enjoyed no opportunities of inquiring into their truth. 
We can see the origin of many in the self-interest of 
those who forged them, and can account for their re- 
ception by the condition of the world. In other words, 
these spurious miracles were the natural growth of the 
ignorance, passions, prejudices, and corruptions of the 
times, and tended to confirm them. Now it is not 
enough to say, that these various marks of falsehood 
cannot be found in the Christian miracles. We find 
in them characters directly the reverse. They were 
wrought for an end worthy of God ; they were wrought 
in an age of improvement ; they are marked by a majes- 
ty, beneficence, unostentatious simplicity, and wisdom, 
which separate them immeasurably from the dreams of 
a disordered fancy or the contrivances of imposture 



168 EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 

They can be explained by no interests, passions, or prej- 
udices of men. They are parts of a religion, which was 
singularly at variance with established ideas and expec- 
tations, which breathes purity and benevolence, which 
transcended the improvements of the age, and which 
thus carries with it the presumption of a divine original. 
Whence this immense distance between the two classes 
of miracles .? Will you trace both to one source, and 
that a polluted one ? Will you ascribe to one spirit, 
works as different as light and darkness, as earth and 
heaven ? I am not, then, shaken in my faith by the false 
miracles of other religions. I have no desire to keep 
them out of sight ; I summon them as my witnesses. 
They show me how naturally imposture and superstition 
leave the stamp of themselves on their fictions. They 
show how man, when he aspires to counterfeit God's 
agency, betrays more signally his impotence and folly. 
When I place side by side the mighty works of Jesus 
and the prodigies of heathenism, I see that they can no 
more be compared with one another, than the machinery 
and mock thunders of the theatre can be likened to the 
awful and beneficent powers of the universe. 

In the .preceding remarks on miracles, I have aimed 
chiefly to meet those general objections by which many 
are prejudiced against supernatural interpositions uni- 
versally, and are disinclined to weigh any proof in their 
support. Hoping that this weak skepticism has been 
shown to want foundation in nature and reason, I pro- 
ceed now to state more particularly the principal grounds 
on which I believe that the miracles ascribed to Jesus 
and the first propagators of Christianity, were actually 
wrought in attestation of its truth. 

The evidences of facts are of two kinds, presumptive 



EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 169 

and direct, and both meet in support of Christian mira- 
cles. First, there are strong presumptions in its favor. 
To this class of proofs, belong the views already given 
of the accordance of revelation and miracles with the 
wants and principles of human nature, with the perfec- 
tions of God, with his relations to his human family, and 
with his ordinary providence. These I need not repeat. 
I will only observe, that a strong presumption in support 
of the miracles arises from the importance of the reli- 
gion to which they belong. If I were told of supernat- 
ural works performed to prove, that three are more than 
one, or that human life requires food for its support, I 
should know that they were false. The presumption 
against them would be invincible. The author of nature 
could never supersede its wise and stupendous order to 
teach what falls within the knowledge of every child. 
Extraordinary interpositions of God suppose that truths 
of extraordinary dignity and beneficence are to be im- 
parted. Now, in Christianity, I find truths of tran- 
scendent importance, which throw into shade all the dis- 
coveries of science, and which give a new character, 
aim, and interest, to our existence. Here is a fit occa- 
sion for supernatural interposition. A presumption ex- 
ists in favor of miracles, by which a religion so worthy 
of God is sustained. 

But a presumption in favor of facts, is not enough. 
It indeed adds much force to the direct proofs ; still 
these are needed, nor are they wanting to Christianity. 
The direct proofs of facts are chiefly of two kinds ; 
they consist of testimony, oral or written, and of effects, 
traces, monuments, which the facts have left behind 
them. The Christian miracles are supported by both. 
— We have first the most unexceptionable Testimo- 
33* o 



170 EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 

ny, nothing less than that of contemporaries and eye- 
witnesses, of the companions of Jesus and the first 
propagators of his religion. We have the testimony of 
men who could not have been deceived as to the facts 
which they report ; who bore their witness amidst perils 
and persecutions ; who bore it on the very spot where 
their Master lived and died ; who had nothing to gain, 
and every thing to lose, if their testimony were false ; 
whose writings breathe the sincerest love of virtue and 
of mankind ; and who at last sealed their attestations 
with their blood. More unexceptionable witnesses to 
facts cannot be produced or conceived. 

Do you say, " These witnesses lived ages ago ; could 
we hear these accounts from their own lips, we should 
be satisfied " .? I answer, You have something better 
than their own lips, or than their own word taken alone. 
You have, as has been proved, their writings. Per- 
haps you hear with some surprise that a book may be 
a better witness than its author ; but nothing is more 
true, and I will illustrate it by an imaginary case in our 
own times. 

Suppose, then, that a man claiming to be an eye- 
witness should relate to me the events of the three 
memorable days of July, in which the last revolution 
of France was achieved ; suppose next, that a book, 
a history of that revolution, published and received as 
true in France, should be sent to me from that country. 
Which is the best evidence of the facts ? I say the 
last. A single witness may deceive ; but that a w r riter 
should publish in France the history of a revolution, 
which never occurred there, or which differed essentially 
from the true one, is, in the highest degree, improbable ; 
and that such a history should obtain currency, that it 



EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY, 171 

should not be instantly branded as a lie, is utterly impos- 
sible. A history received by a people as true, not only 
gives us the testimony of the writer, but the testimony 
of the nation among whom it obtains credit. It is a 
concentration of thousands of voices, of many thousand 
witnesses. I say, then, that the writings of the first 
teachers of Christianity, received as they were by the 
multitude of Christians in their own times and in those 
which immediately followed, are the testimonies of that 
multitude as well as of the writers. Thousands, nearest 
to the events, join in bearing testimony to the Christian 
miracles. 

But there is another class of evidence, sometimes 
more powerful than direct witnesses, and this belongs to 
Christianity. Facts are often placed beyond doubt by 
the effects which they leave behind them. This is the 
case with the miracles of Christ. Let me explain this 
branch of evidence. I am told, when absent and dis- 
tant from your city, that on a certain day, a tide, such as 
had never been known, rose in your harbour, overflowed 
your wharves, and rushed into your streets ; I doubt the 
fact ; but hastening here, I see what were once streets, 
strewed with sea-weed, and shells, and the ruins of 
houses, and I cease to doubt. A witness may deceive, 
but such effects cannot lie. All great events leave 
effects, and these speak directly of the cause. What, I 
ask, are the proofs of the American revolution ? Have 
we none but written or oral testimony ? Our free con- 
stitution, the whole form of our society, the language 
and spirit of our laws, all these bear witness to our Eng- 
Jish origin, and to our successful conflict for indepen- 
dence. Now the miracles of Christianity have left 
effects, which equally attest their reality, and cannot be 



172 EVIDENCES OP CHRISTIANITY. 

explained without them. I go back to the age of Jesug 
Christ, and I am immediately struck with the com- 
mencement and rapid progress of the most remarkable 
revolution in the annals of the world. I see a new re- 
ligion, of a character altogether its own, which bore no 
likeness to any past or existing faith, spreading in a few 
years through all civilized nations, and introducing a new 
era, a new state of society, a change of the human mind, 
which has broadly distinguished all following ages. Here 
is a plain fact, which the skeptic will not deny, however 
he may explain it. I see this religion issuing from an 
obscure, despised, hated people. Its founder had died 
on the cross, a mode of punishment as disgraceful as the 
pillory or gallows of the present day. Its teachers were 
poor men, without rank, office, or education, taken from 
the fishing-boat and other occupations which had never 
furnished teachers to mankind. I see these men begin- 
ning their work on the spot where their Master's blood 
had been shed, as of a common malefactor ; and I hear 
them summoning first his murderers, and then all nations 
and all ranks, the sovereign on the throne, the priest in 
the temple, the great and the learned, as well as the poor 
and the ignorant, to renounce the faith and the worship 
which had been hallowed by the veneration of all ages, 
and to take the yoke of their crucified Lord. I see 
passion and prejudice, the sword of the magistrate, the 
curse of the priest, the scorn of the philosopher, and 
the fury of the populace, joined to crush this common 
enemy ; and yet, without a human weapon and in oppo- 
sition to all human power, I see the humble Apostles of 
Jesus winning their way, overpowering prejudice, break- 
ing the ranks of their opposers, changing enemies into 
friends, breathing into multitudes a calm spirit of mar- 



EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 173 

tyrdom, and carrying to the bounds of civilization, and 
even into half-civilized regions, a religion which has con- 
tributed to advance society more than all other causes 
combined. Here is the effect. Here is a monument 
more durable than pillars or triumphal arches. Now I 
ask for an explanation of these effects. If Jesus Christ 
and his Apostles were indeed sent and empowered by 
God, and wrought miracles in attestation of their mis- 
sion, then the establishment of Christianity is explained. 
Suppose them, on the other hand, to have been insane 
enthusiasts, or selfish impostors, left to meet the whole 
strength of human opposition, with nothing but their 6wn 
power or rather their own weakness, and you have no 
cause for the stupendous effect I have described. Such 
men could no more have changed the face of the world, 
than they could have turned back rivers to their sources, 
sunk mountains into valleys, or raised valleys to the 
skies. Christianity, then, has not only the evidence of 
unexceptionable witnesses, but that of effects ; a proof 
which will grow stronger by comparing its progress with 
that of other religions, such as Mahometanism, which 
sprung from human passions, and were advanced by hu- 
man power. 

IV. Having given my views on the subject of Chris- 
tian miracles, I now pass to the last topic of this dis- 
course. Its extent and importance will lead me to en- 
large upon it in a subsequent discourse ; but a discussion 
of Christian evidences, in which it should find no place, 
would be essentially defective. I refer to the proof of 
Christianity derived from the Character of its Author. 

The character of Jesus was Original. He formed a 
new era in the moral history of the human race. His 



174 EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 

perfection was not that of his age, nor a copy of the 
greatness which had long engrossed the world's admira- 
tion. Jesus stood apart from other men. He borrowed 
from none and leaned on none. Surrounded by men of 
low thoughts, he rose to the conception of a higher form 
of human virtue than had yet been realized or imagined, 
and deliberately devoted himself to its promotion, as the 
supreme object of his life and death. Conscious of be- 
ing dedicated to this great work, he spoke with a calm 
dignity, an unaffected elevation, which separated him 
from all other teachers. Unsupported, he never waver- 
ed ; sufficient to himself, he refused alliance with wealth 
or power. Yet, with all this self-subsistence and uncom- 
promising energy, his character was the mildest, the 
gentlest, the most attractive, ever manifested among men. 
It could not have been a fiction, for who could have 
conceived it, or who could have embodied the concep- 
tion in such a life as Jesus is said to have led, in actions, 
words, manners, so natural and unstudied, so imbued 
with reality, so worthy of the Son of God ? 

The great distinction of Jesus was a philanthropy 
without mixture and without bounds ; a philanthropy, 
uniting grandeur "and meekness in beautiful proportions ; 
a philanthropy, as wise as it was fervent, which compre- 
hended the true wants and the true good of man, which 
compassionated, indeed, his sufferings from abroad, but 
which saw in the soul the deep fountain of his miseries, 
and labored, by regenerating this, to bring him to a pure 
and enduring happiness. So peculiar, so unparalleled 
was the benevolence of Jesus, that it has impressed it- 
self on all future times. There went forth a virtue, a 
beneficent influence from his character, which operates 
even now. Since the death of Christ, a spirh of hu- 



EVIDENCES OP CHRISTIANITY. 175 

manity, unknown before, has silently diffused itself ovei 
a considerable portion of the earth. A new standard 
of virtue has gradually possessed itself of the veneration 
of men. A new power has been acting on society, 
which has done more than all other causes combined, to 
disarm the selfish passions, and to bind men strongly to 
one another and to God. What a monument have we 
here to the virtue of Jesus ! and if Christianity has such 
a Founder, it must have come from Heaven. 

There are other remarkable proofs of the power and 
elevation of the character of Christ. It has touched 
and conciliated not a few of the determined adversaries 
of his religion. Infidelity, whilst it has laid unsparing 
hands on the system, has generally shrunk from offering 
violence to its Author. In truth, unbelievers have occa- 
sionally borne eloquent testimony to the benignant and 
celestial virtues of Jesus ; and I record this with pleas- 
ure, not only as honorable to Christianity, but as snow- 
ing that unbelief does not universally sear the moral 
feelings, or breathe hostility to goodness. Nor is this 
all. The character of Christ has withstood the most 
deadly and irresistible foe of error and unfounded claims, 
I mean, Time. It has lost nothing of its elevation by 
the improvements of ages. Since he appeared, society 
has gone forward, men's views have become enlarged, 
and philosophy has risen to conceptions of far purer vir- 
tues than were the boast of antiquity. But, however 
the human mind may have advanced, it must still look 
upward, if it would see and understand Christ. He is 
still above it. Nothing purer, nobler, has yet dawned 
on human thoughts. Then Christianity is true. The 
delineation of Jesus in the Gospels, so warm with life, 
and so unrivalled in loveliness and grandeur, required the 



176 EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 

existence of an original. To suppose that this character 
was invented by unprincipled men, amidst Jewish and 
heathen darkness, and was then imposed as a reality in 
the very age of the founder of Christianity, argues an 
excess of credulity, and a strange ignorance of the 
powers and principles of human nature. The character 
of Jesus was real ; and if so, Jesus must have been 
what he professed to be, the Son of God and the re- 
vealer of his mercy and his will to mankind. 

I have now completed what I proposed in this dis- 
course. I have laid before you some of the principal 
evidences of Christianity. I have aimed to state them 
without exaggeration. That an honest mind, which 
thoroughly comprehends them, can deny their force, 
seems to me hardly possible. Stronger proofs may in- 
deed be conceived ; but it is doubtful, whether these 
could be given in consistency with our moral nature, and 
with the moral government of God. Such a govern- 
ment requires, that truth should not be forced on the 
mind, but that we should be left to gain it, by an upright 
use of our understandings, and by conforming ourselves 
to what we have already learned. God might indeed 
shed on us an overpowering light, so that it would be 
impossible for us to lose our way ; but in so doing, he 
would annihilate an important part of our present proba- 
tion. It is then no objection to Christianity, that its 
evidences are not the very strongest which might be 
given, and that they do not extort universal assent. In 
this respect, it accords with other great truths. These 
are not forced on our belief. Whoever will, may shut 
his eyes on their proofs, and array against them objec- 
tions. In the measure of evidence with which Christi- 



EVIDENCES OP CHRISTIANITY. 177 

anity is accompanied, I see a just respect for the free- 
dom of the mind, and a wise adaptation to that moral 
nature, which it is the great aim of this religion to carry 
forward to perfection. 

I close as I began. I am not ashamed of the gospel 
of Christ ; for it is True. It is true ; and its truth is to 
break forth more and more gloriously. Of this I have 
not a doubt. I know indeed that our religion has been 
questioned even by intelligent and good men ; but this 
does not shake my faith in its divine original or in its ul- 
timate triumphs. Such men have questioned it, because 
they have known it chiefly by its corruptions. In pro- 
portion as its original simplicity shall be restored, the 
doubts of the well-disposed will yield. I have no fears 
from infidelity ; especially from that form of it, which 
some are at this moment laboring to spread through our 
country ; I mean, that insane, desperate unbelief, which 
strives to quench the light of nature as well as of revela- 
tion, and to leave us, not only without Christ, but with- 
out God. This I dread no more than I should fear the 
efforts of men to pluck the sun from his sphere, or to 
storm the skies with the artillery of the earth. We 
were made for religion ; and unless the enemies of our 
faith can change our nature, they will leave the founda- 
tion of religion unshaken The human soul was created 
to look above material nature. It wants a Deity for its 
love and trust, an Immortality for its hope. It wants 
consolations not found in philosophy, wants strength in 
temptation, sorrow, and death, which human wisdom 
cannot minister ; and knowing as I do, that Christianity 
meets these deep wants of men, I have no fear or 
doubt as to its triumphs. Men cannot long live without 
34 



178 EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 

religion. In France there is a spreading dissatisfaction 
with the skeptical spirit of the past generation. A phi- 
losopher in that country would now blush to quote Vol- 
taire as an authority in religion. Already Atheism is 
dumb where once it seemed to bear sway. The great- 
est minds in France are working back their way to the 
light of truth. Many of them indeed cannot yet be 
called Christians ; but their path, like that of the wise 
men of old who came star-guided from the East, is 
towards Christ. I am not ashamed of the Gospel of 
Christ. It has an immortal life, and will gather strength 
from the violence of its foes. It is equal to all the wants 
of men. The greatest minds have found in it the light 
which they most anxiously desired. The most sorrow- 
ful and broken spirits have found in it a healing balm for 
their woes. It has inspired the sublimest virtues and 
the loftiest hopes. For the corruptions of such a reli- 
gion I weep, and I should blush to be their advocate ; 
but of the Gospel itself, I can never be ashamed. 



UNITARIAN CHRISTIANITY 



DISCOURSE 



ORDINATION OF THE REV. JARED SPARKS. 
Baltimore, 1819. 



1 Thes. v. 21 : "Prove all things ; hold fast that which is good." 

The peculiar circumstances of this occasion not only 
justify, but seem to demand a departure from the course 
generally followed by preachers at the introduction of 
a brother into the sacred office. It is usual to speak 
of the nature, design, duties, and advantages of the 
Christian ministry ; and on these topics I should now 
be happy to insist, did I not remember that a minister 
is to be given this day to a religious society, whose 
peculiarities of opinion have drawn upon them much 
remark, and may I not add, much reproach. Many 
good minds, many sincere Christians, I am aware, are 
apprehensive that the solemnities of this day are to give 
a degree of influence to principles which they deem 
false and injurious. The fears and anxieties of such 
men I respect ; and, believing that they are grounded 
in part on mistake, I have thought it my duty to lay 



180 UNITARIAN" CHRISTIANITY. 

before you, as clearly as I can, some of the distinguish- 
ing opinions of that class of Christians in our country, 
who are known to sympathize with this religious society. 
I must ask your patience, for such a subject is not to 
be despatched in a narrow compass. I must also ask 
you to remember, that it is impossible to exhibit, in a 
single discourse, our views of every doctrine of Reve- 
lation, much less the differences of opinion which are 
known to subsist among ourselves. I shall confine my- 
self to topics, on which our sentiments have been mis 
represented, or which distinguish us most widely from 
others. May I not hope to be heard with candor ? 
God deliver us all from prejudice and unkindness, and 
fill us with the love of truth and virtue. 

There are two natural divisions under which my 
thoughts will be arranged. I shall endeavour to unfold, 
1st, The principles which we adopt in interpreting the 
Scriptures. And 2dly, Some of the doctrines, which 
the Scriptures, so interpreted, seem to us clearly to 
express. 

I. We regard the Scriptures as the records of God's 
successive revelations to mankind, and particularly of 
the last and most perfect revelation of his will by Jesus 
Christ. Whatever doctrines seem to us to be clearly 
taught in the Scriptures, we receive without reserve 
or exception. We do not, however, attach equal im- 
portance to all the books in this collection. Our re- 
ligion, we believe, lies chiefly in the New Testament. 
The dispensation of Moses, compared with that of Je- 
sus, we consider as adapted to the childhood of the hu- 
man race, a preparation for a nobler system, and chiefly 
useful now as serving to confirm and illustrate the 



UNITARIAN CHRISTIANITY. 181 

Christian Scriptures. Jesus Christ is the only master 
of Christians, and whatever he taught, either during 
his personal ministry, or by his inspired Apostles, we 
regard as of divine authority, and profess to make the 
rule of our lives. 

This authority, which we give to the Scriptures, is 
a reason, we conceive, for studying them with peculiar 
care, and for inquiring anxiously into the principles of 
interpretation, by which their true meaning may be 
ascertained. The principles adopted by the class of 
Christians in whose name I speak, need to be explained, 
because they are often misunderstood. We are partic- 
ularly accused of making an unwarrantable use of reason 
in the interpretation of Scripture. We are said to 
exalt reason above revelation, to prefer our own wisdom 
to God's. Loose and undefined charges of this kind 
are circulated so freely, that we think it due to our- 
selves, and to the cause of truth, to express our views 
with some particularity. 

Our leading principle in interpreting Scripture is 
this, that the Bible is a book written for men, in the 
language of men, and that its meaning is to be sought 
in the same manner as that of other books. We be- 
lieve that God, when he speaks to the human race, 
conforms, if we may so say, to the established rules of 
speaking and writing. How else would the Scriptures 
avail us more, than if communicated in an unknown 
tongue ? 

Now all books, and all conversation, require in the 
reader or hearer the constant exercise of reason ; or 
their true import is only to be obtained by continual 
comparison and inference. Human language, you well 
know, admits various interpretations ; and every word 

6 p 



182 UNITARIAN CHRISTIANITY. 

and every sentence must be modified and explained ac- 
cording to the subject which is discussed, according to 
the purposes, feelings, circumstances, and principles of 
the writer, and according to the genius and idioms of 
the language which he uses. These are acknowledged 
principles in the interpretation of human writings ; and 
a man, whose words we should explain without refer- 
ence to these principles, would reproach us justly with 
a criminal want of candor, and an intention of obscur- 
ing or distorting his meaning. 

Were the Bible written in a language and style of its 
own, did it consist of words, which admit but a single 
sense, and of sentences wholly detached from each 
other, there would be no place for the principles now 
laid down. We could not reason about it, as about 
other writings. But such a book would be of little 
worth ; and perhaps, of all books, the Scriptures cor- 
respond least to this description. The Word of God 
bears the stamp of the same hand, which we see in his 
works. It has infinite connexions and dependences. 
Every proposition is linked with others, and is to be 
compared with others ; that its full and precise import 
may be understood. Nothing stands alone. The New 
Testament is built on the Old. The Christian dis- 
pensation is a continuation of the Jewish, the comple- 
tion of a vast scheme of providence, requiring great 
extent of view in the reader. Still more, the Bible 
treats of subjects on which we receive ideas from other 
sources besides itself; such subjects as the nature, pas- 
sions, relations, and duties of man ; and it expects us 
to restrain and modify its language by the known truths, 
which observation and experience furnish on these topics. 

We profess not to know a book, which demands a 



UNITARIAN CHRISTIANITY. 183 

more frequent exercise of reason than the Bible. In 
addition to the remarks now made on its infinite con- 
nexions, we may observe, that its style nowhere affects 
the precision of science, or the accuracy of definition. 
Its language is singularly glowing, bold, and figurative, 
demanding more frequent departures from the literal 
sense, than that of our own age and country, and con- 
sequently demanding more continual exercise of judg- 
ment. — We find, too, that the different portions of thia 
book, instead of being confined to general truths, refer 
perpetually to the times when they were written, to 
states of society, to modes of thinking, to controversies 
in the church, to feelings and usages which have passed 
away, and without the knowledge of which we are con- 
stantly in danger of extending to all times, and places, 
what was of temporary and local application. — We find, 
too, that some of these books are strongly marked by 
the genius and character of their respective writers, 
that the Holy Spirit did not so guide the Apostles as 
to suspend the peculiarities of their minds, and that a 
knowledge of their feelings, and of the influences under 
which they were placed, is one of the preparations for 
understanding their writings. With these views of the 
Bible, we feel it our bounden duty to exercise our rea- 
son upon it perpetually, to compare, to infer, to look 
beyond the letter to the spirit, to seek in the nature of 
the subject, and the aim of the writer, his true mean* 
ing ; and, in general, to make use of what is known, 
for explaining what is difficult, and for discovering new 
truths. 

Need I descend to particulars, to prove that the 
Scriptures demand the exercise of reason ? Take, for 
example, the style in which they generally speak of 



184 UNITARIAN CHRISTIANITY. 

God, and observe bow habitually they apply to him 
human passions and organs. Recollect the declarations 
of Christ, that he came not to send peace, but a sword ; 
that unless we eat his flesh, and drink his blood, we 
have no life in us ; that we must hate father and moth- 
er, and pluck out the right eye \ and a vast number of 
passages equally bold and unlimited. Recollect the 
unqualified manner in which it is said of Christians, that 
they possess all things, know all things, and can do all 
things. Recollect the verbal contradiction between Paul 
and James, and the apparent clashing of some parts of 
Paul's writings with the general doctrines and end of 
Christianity. I might extend the enumeration indefi- 
nitely ; and who does not see, that we must limit al) 
these passages by the known attributes of God, of 
Jesus Christ, and of human nature, and by the circum- 
stances under which they were written, so as to give 
the language a quite different import from what it would 
require, had it been applied to different beings, or used 
in different connexions. 

Enough has been said to show, in what sense we 
make use of reason in interpreting Scripture. From 
a variety of possible interpretations, we select that which 
accords with the nature of the subject and the state of 
the writer, with the connexion of the passage, with the 
general strain of Scripture, with the known character 
and will of God, and with the obvious and acknowl- 
edged laws of nature. In other words, we believe that 
God never contradicts, in one part of Scripture, what 
he teaches in another ; and never contradicts, in revela 
tion, what he teaches in his works and providence. 
And we therefore distrust every interpretation, which, 
after deliberate attention, seems repugnant to any estab- 



UNITARIAN CHRISTIANITY. 185 

lished truth. We reason about the Bible precisely as 
civilians do about the constitution under which we live ; 
who, you know, are accustomed to limit one provision 
of that venerable instrument by others, and to fix the 
precise import of its parts, by inquiring into its general 
spirit, into the intentions of its authors, and into the 
prevalent feelings, impressions, and circumstances of 
the time when it was framed. Without these principles 
of interpretation, we frankly acknowledge, that we can- 
not defend the divine authority of the Scriptures. Deny 
us this latitude, and we must abandon this book to its 
enemies. 

We do not announce these principles as original, or 
peculiar to ourselves. All Christians occasionally adopt 
them, not excepting those who most vehemently decry 
them, when they happen to menace some favorite arti- 
cle of their creed. All Christians are compelled to 
use them in their controversies with infidels. All sects 
employ them in their warfare with one another. All 
willingly avail themselves of reason, when it can be 
pressed into the service of their own party, and only 
complain of it, when its weapons wound themselves. 
None reason more frequently than those from whom we 
differ. It is astonishing what a fabric they rear from 
a few slight hints about the fall of our first parents ; and 
how ingeniously they extract, from detached passages, 
mysterious doctrines about the divine nature. We do 
not blame them for reasoning* so abundantly, but for 
violating the fundamental rules of reasoning, for sacri- 
ficing the plain to the obscure, and the general strain of 
Scripture to a scanty number of insulated texts. 

We object strongly to the contemptuous manner in 
which human reason is often spoken of by our adver- 
6* p* 



186 



UNIT ASIAN CHRISTIANITY. 



saries, because it leads, we believe, to universal skep- 
ticism. If reason be so dreadfully darkened by the 
fall, that its most decisive judgments on religion are 
unworthy of trust, then Christianity, and even natural 
theology, must be abandoned ; for the existence and 
veracity of God, and the divine original of Christianity- 
are conclusions of reason, and must stand or fall with 
it. If revelation be at war with this faculty, it subverts 
itself, for the great question of its truth is left by God 
to be decided at the bar of reason. It is worthy of re- 
mark, how nearly the bigot and the skeptic approach, 
Both would annihilate our confidence in our faculties? 
and both throw doubt and confusion over every truth, 
"We honor revelation too highly to make it the antago- 
nist of reason, or to believe that it calls us to renounce 
our highest powers. 

We indeed grant, that the use of reason in religion 
is accompanied with danger. But we ask any hones! 
man to look back on the history of the church, and say 7 
whether the renunciation of it be not still more dan- 
gerous. Besides, it is a plain fact, that men reason as 
erroneously on all subjects, as on religion. Who does 
not know the wild and groundless theories, which have 
been framed in physical and political science ? But 
who ever supposed, that we must cease to exercise rea- 
son on nature and society, because men have erred for 
ages in explaining them ? We grant, that the passions 
continually, and sometimes fatally, disturb the rationai 
faculty in its inquiries into revelation. The ambitious 
contrive to find doctrines in the Bible, which favor their 
love of dominion. The timid and dejected discover 
there a gloomy system, and the mystical and fanatical, a 
visionary theology. The vicious can find examples or 



UNITARIAN CHRISTIANITY. 187 

assertions on which to build the hope of a late repen- 
tance, or of acceptance on easy terms. The falsely 
refined contrive to light on doctrines which have not 
been soiled by vulgar handling. But the passions do 
not distract the reason in religious, any more than in 
other inquiries, which excite strong and general inter- 
est ; and this faculty, of consequence, is not to be re- 
nounced in religion, unless we are prepared to discard 
it universally. The true inference from the almost end- 
less errors, which have darkened theology, is, not that 
we are to neglect and disparage our powers, but to exert 
them more patiently, circumspectly, uprightly. The 
worst errors, after all, having sprung up in that church, 
which proscribes reason, and demands from its members 
implicit faith. The most pernicious doctrines have been 
the growth of the darkest times, when the general cre- 
dulity encouraged bad men and enthusiasts to broach 
their dreams and inventions, and to stifle the faint re- 
monstrances of reason, by the menaces of everlasting 
perdition. Say what we may, God has given us a ra- 
tional nature, and will call us to account for it. We 
may let it sleep, but we do so at our peril. Revelation 
is addressed to us as rational beings. We may wish, in 
our sloth, that God had given us a system, demanding 
no labor of comparing, limiting, and inferring. But 
such a system would be at variance with the whole char- 
acter of our present existence ; and it is the part of 
wisdom to take revelation as it is given to us, and to in- 
terpret it by the help of the faculties, which it every- 
where supposes, and on which it is founded. 

To the views now given, an objection is commonly 
urged from the character of God. We are told, that 
God being infinitely wiser than men, his discoveries 



188 UNITARIAN CHRISTIANITY. 

will surpass human reason. In a revelation from such 
a teacher, we ought to expect propositions, which we 
cannot reconcile with one another, and which may seem 
to contradict established truths ; and it becomes us not 
to question or explain them away, but to believe, and 
adore, and to submit our weak and carnal reason to 
the Divine Word. To this objection, we have two short 
answers. We say, first, that it is impossible that a 
teacher of infinite wisdom should expose those, whom 
he would teach, to infinite error. But if once we admit, 
that propositions, which in their literal sense appear 
plainly repugnant to one another, or to any known 
truth, are still to be literally understood and received, 
what possible limit can we set to the belief of contra- 
dictions ? What shelter have we from the wildest fanati- 
cism, which can always quote passages, that, in their 
literal and obvious sense, give support to its extrava- 
gances ? How can the Protestant escape from tran- 
substantiation, a doctrine most clearly taught us, if the 
submission of reason, now contended for, be a duty ? 
How can we even hold fast the truth of revelation, 
for if one apparent contradiction may be true, so may 
another, and the proposition, that Christianity is false, 
though involving inconsistency, may still be a verity ? 

We answer again, that, if God be infinitely wise, he 
cannot sport with the understandings of his creatures. 
A wise teacher discovers his wisdom in adapting himself 
to the capacities of his pupils, not in perplexing them 
with what is unintelligible, not in distressing them with 
apparent contradictions, not in filling them with a skep- 
tical distrust of their own powers. An infinitely wise 
teacher, who knows the precise extent of our minds, 
and the best method of enlightening them, will surpass 



UNITARIAN CHRISTIANITY. 189 

all other instructors in bringing down truth to our ap- 
prehension, and in showing its loveliness and harmony. 
We ought, indeed, to expect occasional obscurity in 
such a book as the Bible, which was written for past 
and future ages, as well as for the present. But God's 
wisdom is a pledge, that whatever is necessary for us, 
and necessary for salvation, is revealed too plainly to 
be mistaken, and too consistently to be questioned, by 
a sound and upright mind. It is not the mark of wis- 
dom, to use an unintelligible phraseology, to communi- 
cate what is above our capacities, to confuse and unset- 
tle the intellect by appearances of contradiction. We 
honor our Heavenly Teacher too much to ascribe to 
him such a revelation. A revelation is a gift of light. 
It cannot thicken our darkness, and multiply our per- 
plexities. 

II. Having thus stated the principles according to 
which we interpret Scripture, I now proceed to the 
second great head of this discourse, which is, to state 
some of the views which we derive from that sacred 
book, particularly those which distinguish us from other 
Christians. 

1. In the first place, we believe in the doctrine of 
God's unity, or that there is one God, and one only. 
To this truth we give infinite importance, and we feel 
ourselves bound to take heed, lest any man spoil us of 
it by vain philosophy. The proposition, that there is 
one God, seems to us exceedingly plain. We under- 
stand by it, that there is one being, one mind, one per- 
son, one intelligent agent, and one only, to whom un- 
derived and infinite perfection and dominion belong. 
We conceive, that these words could have conveyed no 



190 UNITARIAN CHRISTIANITY. 

other meaning to the simple and uncultivated people, 
who were set apart to be the depositaries of this great 
truth, and who were utterly incapable of understanding 
those hair-breadth distinctions between being and per- 
son, which the sagacity of later ages has discovered. 
We find no intimation, that this language was to be 
taken in an unusual sense, or that God's unity was a 
quite different thing from the oneness of other intelli- 
gent beings. 

We object to the doctrine of the Trinity, that, whilst 
acknowledging in words, it subverts in effect, the unity 
of God. According to this doctrine, there are three 
infinite and equal persons, possessing supreme divinity, 
called the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. Each of 
these persons, as described by theologians, has his own 
particular consciousness, will, and perceptions. They 
love each other, converse with each other, and delight 
in each other's society. They perform different parts 
in man's redemption, each having his appropriate office, 
and neither doing the work of the other. The Son is 
mediator and not the Father. The Father sends the 
Son, and is not himself sent ; nor is he conscious, like 
the Son, of taking flesh. Here, then, we have three in* 
telligent agents, possessed of different consciousnesses, 
different wills, and different perceptions, performing dif- 
ferent acts, and sustaining different relations ; and if 
these things do not imply and constitute three minds 
or beings, we are utterly at a loss to know how three 
minds or beings are to be formed. It is difference of 
properties, and acts, and consciousness, which leads 
us to the belief of different intelligent beings, and, if 
this mark fails us, our whole knowledge falls ; we have 
no proof, that all the agents and persons in the universe 



UNITARIAN CHRISTIANITY. 191 

are not one and the same mind. When we attempt to 
conceive of three Gods, we can do nothing more than 
represent to ourselves three agents, distinguished from 
each other by similar marks and peculiarities to those. 
which separate the persons of the Trinity ; and when 
common Christians hear these persons spoken of as 
conversing with each other, loving each other, and per- 
forming different acts, how can they help regarding them 
as different beings, different minds ? 

We do, then, with all earnestness, though without 
reproaching our brethren, protest against the irrational 
end unscriptural doctrine of the Trinity. " To us," as 
to the Apostle and the primitive Christians, "there is 
one God, even the Father." With Jesus, we worship 
the Father, as the only living and true God. We are 
astonished, that any man can read the New Testament, 
and avoid the conviction, that the Father alone is God. 
We hear our Saviour continually appropriating this 
character to the Father. We find the Father continu- 
ally distinguished from Jesus by this title. " God sent 
his Son." " God anointed Jesus." Now, how singu- 
lar and inexplicable is this phraseology, which fills the 
New Testament, if this title belong equally to Jesus, 
and if a principal object of this book is to reveal him 
as God, as partaking equally with the Father in supreme 
divinity ! We challenge our opponents to adduce one 
passage in the New Testament, where the word God 
means three persons, where it is not limited to one per- 
son, and where, unless turned from its usual sense by 
the connexion, it does not mean the Father. Can 
stronger proof be given, that the doctrine of three per- 
sons in the Godhead is not a fundamental doctrine of 
Christianity ? 



192 UNITARIAN CHRISTIANITY. 

This doctrine, were it true, must, from its difficulty ? 
singularity, and importance, have been laid down with 
great clearness, guarded with great care, and stated with 
all possible precision. But where does this statement 
appear ? From the many passages which treat of God, 
we ask for one, one only, in which we are told, that he 
is a threefold being, or that he is three persons, or that 
he is Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. On the contrary, 
in the New Testament, where, at least, we might ex- 
pect many express assertions of this nature, God is 
declared to be one, without the least attempt to prevent 
the acceptation of the words in their common sense ; 
and he is always spoken of and addressed in the singular 
number, that is, in language which was universally un- 
derstood to intend a single person, and to which no 
other idea could have been attached, without an express 
admonition. So entirely do the Scriptures abstain from 
stating the Trinity, that when our opponents would in- 
sert it into their creeds and doxologies, they are com- 
pelled to leave the Bible, and to invent forms of words 
altogether unsanctioned by Scriptural phraseology. That 
a doctrine so strange, so liable to misapprehension, so 
fundamental as this is said to be, and requiring such 
careful exposition, should be left so undefined and un- 
protected, to be made out by inference, and to be hunted 
through distant and detached parts of Scripture, this is 
a difficulty, which, we think, no ingenuity can explain. 

We have another difficulty. Christianity, it must be 
remembered, was planted and grew up amidst sharp- 
sighted enemies, who overlooked no objectionable part 
of the system, and who must have fastened with great 
earnestness on a doctrine involving such apparent con- 
tradictions as the Trinity. We cannot conceive an 



UNITARIAN CHRISTIANITY. 193 

opinion, against which the Jews, who prided themselves 
on an adherence to God's unity, would have raised an 
equal clamor. Now, how happens it, that in the 
apostolic writings, which relate so much to objections 
against Christianity, and to the controversies which 
grew out of this religion, not one word is said, implying 
that objections were brought against the Gospel from 
the doctrine of the Trinity, not one word is uttered in 
its defence and explanation, not a word to rescue it from 
reproach and mistake ? This argument has almost the 
force of demonstration. We are persuaded, that had 
three divine persons been announced by the first preach- 
ers of Christianity, all equal, and all infinite, one of 
whom was the very Jesus who had lately died on a 
cross, this peculiarity of Christianity would have almost 
absorbed every other, and the great labor of the Apos- 
tles would have been to repel the continual assaults, 
which it would have awakened. But the fact is, that 
not a whisper of objection to Christianity, on that ac- 
count, reaches our ears from the apostolic age. In the 
Epistles we see not a trace of controversy called forth 
by the Trinity. 

We have further objections to this doctrine, drawn 
from its practical influence. We regard it as unfavor- 
able to devotion, by dividing and distracting the mind 
in its communion with God. It is a great excellence 
of the doctrine of God's unity, that it offers to us one 
object of supreme homage, adoration, and love, One 
Infinite Father, one Being of beings, one original and 
fountain, to whom we may refer all good, in whom all 
our powers and affections may be concentrated, and 
whose lovely and venerable nature may pervade all our 
thoughts. True piety, when directed to an undivided 

7 Q 



194 UNITARIAN CHRISTIANITY 

Deity, has a cbasteness, a singleness, most favorable 
to religious awe and love. Now, the Trinity sets be- 
fore us three distinct objects of supreme adoration , 
three infinite persons, having equal claims on our hearts ; 
three divine agents, performing different offices, and to 
be acknowledged and worshipped in different relations. 
And is it possible, we ask, that the weak and limited 
mind of man can attach itself to these with the same 
power and joy, as to One Infinite Father, the only First 
Cause, in whom all the blessings of nature and redemp- 
tion meet as their centre and source ? Must not de- 
votion be distracted by the equal and rival claims of 
three equal persons, and must not the worship of the 
conscientious, consistent Christian, be disturbed by an 
apprehension, lest he withhold from one or another of 
these, his due proportion of homage ? 

We also think, that the doctrine of the Trinity in- 
jures devotion, not only by joining to the Father other 
objects of worship, but by taking from the Father the 
supreme affection, which is his due, and transferring 
it to the Son. This is a most important view. That 
Jesus Christ, if exalted into the infinite Divinity, should 
be more interesting than the Father, is precisely what 
might be expected from history, and from the principles 
of human nature. Men want an object of worship like 
themselves, and the great secret of idolatry lies in this 
propensity. A God, clothed in our form, and feeling 
our wants and sorrows, speaks to our weak nature more 
strongly, than a Father in heaven, a pure spirit, invisi- 
ble and unapproachable, save by the reflecting and 
purified mind. — We think, too, that the peculiar offices 
ascribed to Jesus by the popular theology, make him 
the most attractive person in the Godhead. The Fa- 



UNITARIAN CHRISTIANITY 195 

ther is the depositary of the justice, the vindicator of the 
rights, the avenger of the laws of the Divinity. On the 
other hand, die Son, the brightness of the divine mercy, 
stands between the incensed Deity and guilty humanity, 
exposes his meek head to the storms, and his compas- 
sionate breast to the sword of the divine justice, bears 
our whole load of punishment, and purchases with his 
blood every blessing which descends from heaven. Need 
we state the effect of these representations, especially 
on common minds, for whom Christianity was chiefly 
designed, and whom it seeks to bring to the Father as 
the loveliest being ? We do believe, that the worship 
of a bleeding, suffering God, tends strongly to absorb 
the mind, and to draw it from other objects, just as the 
human tenderness of the Virgin Mary has given her so 
conspicuous a place in the devotions of the Church of 
Rome. We believe, too, that this worship, though at- 
tractive, is not most fitted to spiritualize the mind, that 
it awakens human transport, rather than that deep ven- 
eration of the moral perfections of God, which is the 
essence of piety. 

2. Having thus given our views of the unity of God, 
I proceed in the second place to observe, that we be- 
lieve in the unity of Jesus Christ. We believe that 
Jesus is one mind, one soul, one being, as truly one as 
we are, and equally distinct from the one God. We 
complain of the doctrine of the Trinity, that, not satis- 
fied with making God three beings, it makes Jesus Christ 
two beings, and thus introduces infinite confusion into 
our conceptions of his character. This corruption of 
Christianity, alike repugnant to common sense and to the 
general strain of Scripture, is a remarkable proof of the 
power of a false philosophy in disfiguring the simple 
truth of Jesus. 



196 UNITARIAN CHRISTIANITY. 

According to this doctrine, Jesus Christ, instead of 
being one mind, one conscious intelligent principle, 
whom we can understand, consists of two souls, two 
minds ; the one divine, the other human ; the one weak, 
the other almighty ; the one ignorant, the other omnis- 
cient. Now we maintain, that this is to make Christ 
two beings. To denominate him one person, one being, 
and yet to suppose him made up of two minds, infinitely 
different from each other, is to abuse and confound 
language, and to throw darkness over all our conceptions 
of intelligent natures. According to the common doc- 
trine, each of these two minds in Christ has its own con- 
sciousness, its own will, its own perceptions. They 
have, in fact, no common properties. The divine mind 
feels none of the wants and sorrows of the human, and 
the human is infinitely removed from the perfection and 
happiness of the divine. Can you conceive of two 
beings in the universe more distinct ? We have always 
thought that one person was constituted and distinguished 
by one consciousness. The doctrine, that one and the 
same person should have two consciousnesses, two wills, 
two souls, infinitely different from each other, this we 
think an enormous tax on human credulity. 

We say, that if a doctrine, so strange, so difficult, so 
remote from all the previous conceptions of men, be 
indeed a part and an essential part of revelation, it must 
be taught with great distinctness, and we ask our breth- 
ren to point to some plain, direct passage, where Christ 
is said to be composed of two minds infinitely different, 
yet constituting one person. We find none, Other 
Christians, indeed, tell us, that this doctrine is necessary 
to the harmony of the Scriptures, that some texts as- 
cribe to Jesus Christ human, and others divine proper- 



UNITARIAN CHRISTIANITY. 197 

ties, and that to reconcile these, we must suppose two 
minds, to which these properties may be referred. In 
other words, for the purpose of reconciling certain diffi- 
cult passages, which a just criticism can in a great 
degree, if not wholly, explain, we must invent an hy- 
pothesis vastly more difficult, and involving gross ab- 
surdity. We are to find our way out of a labyrinth, by 
a clue which conducts us into mazes infinitely more in- 
extricable. 

Surely, if Jesus Christ felt that he consisted of two 
minds, and that this was a leading feature of his religion, 
his phraseology respecting himself would have been col- 
ored by this peculiarity. The universal language of 
men is framed upon the idea, that one person is one per- 
son, is one mind, and one soul ; and when the multitude 
heard this language from the lips of Jesus, they must 
have taken it in its usual sense, and must have referred 
to a single soul all which he spoke, unless expressly in- 
structed to interpret it differently. But where do we 
find this instruction ? Where do you meet, in the New 
Testament, the phraseology which abounds in Trinita- 
rian books, and which necessarily grows from the doc- 
trine of two natures in Jesus ? Where does this divine 
teacher say, "This T speak as God, and this as man; 
this is true only of my human mind, this only of my 
divine " ? Where do we find in the Epistles a trace 
of this strange phraseology ? Nowhere. It was not 
needed in that day. It was demanded by the errors of 
a later age. 

We believe, then, that Christ is one mind, one being, 
and, I add, a being distinct from the one God. That 
Christ is not the one God, not the same being with the 
Father, is a necessary inference from our former head, 

7* Q* 



193 UNITARIAN CHRISTIANITY. 

in which we saw that the doctrine of three persons m 
God is a fiction. But on so important a subject, I 
would add a few remarks. We wish, that those from 
whom we differ, would weigh one striking fact. Jesus, 
in his preaching, continually spoke of God. The word 
was always in his mouth. We ask, does he, by this 
word, ever mean himself? We say, never. On the 
contrary, he most plainly distinguishes between God and 
himself, and so do his disciples. How this is to be 
reconciled with the idea, that the manifestation of Christ, 
as God, was a primary object of Christianity, our ad- 
versaries must determine. 

If we examine the passages in which Jesus is distin- 
guished from God, we shall see, that they not only speak 
of him as another being, but seem to labor to express 
his inferiority. He is continually spoken of as the Son 
of God, sent of God, receiving all his powers from God, 
working miracles because God was with him, judging 
justly because God taught him, having claims on our be- 
lief, because he was anointed and sealed by God, and as 
able of himself to do nothing. The New Testament is 
filled with this language. Now we ask, what impression 
this language was fitted and intended to make ? Could 
any, who heard it, have imagined that Jesus was the 
very God to whom he was so industriously declared to 
be inferior ; the very Being by whom he was sent, and 
from whom he professed to have received his message 
and power ? Let it here be remembered, that the hu- 
man birth, and bodily form, and humble circumstances, 
and mortal sufferings of Jesus, must all have prepared 
men to interpret, in the most unqualified manner, the 
language in which his inferiority to God was declared. 
Why, then, was this language used so continually, and 



UNITARIAN CHRISTIANITY. 199 

without limitation, if Jesus were the Supreme Deity, 
and \( this truth were an essential part of his religion ? 
I repeat it, the human condition and sufferings of Christ 
tended strongly to exclude from men's minds the idea of 
liis proper Godhead ; and, of course, we should expect 
to find in the New Testament perpetual care and effort 
to counteract this tendency, to hold him forth as the 
same being with his Father, if this doctrine were, as is 
pretended, the soul and centre of his religion. We 
should expect to find the phraseology of Scripture cast 
into the mould of this doctrine, to hear familiarly of God 
the Son, of our Lord God Jesus, and to be told, that 
to us there is one God, even Jesus. But, instead of 
this, the inferiority of Christ pervades the New Testa- 
ment. It is not only implied in the general phraseology, 
but repeatedly and decidedly expressed, and unaccom- 
panied with any admonition to prevent its application 
to his whole nature. Could it, then, have been the 
great design of the sacred writers to exhibit Jesus as 
the Supreme God ? 

I am aware that these remarks will be met by two or 
three texts, in which Christ is called God, and by a 
class of passages, not very numerous, in which divine 
properties are said to be ascribed to him. To these 
we offer one plain answer. We say, that it is one of 
the most established and obvious principles of criticism, 
that language is to be explained according to the known 
properties of the subject to which it is applied. Every 
man knows, that the same words convey very different 
ideas, when used in relation to different beings. Thus, 
Solomon built the temple in a different manner from the 
architect whom he employed ; and God repents differ 
ently from man. Now we maintain, that the known 



200 UNITARIAN CHRISTIANITY. 

properties and circumstances of Christ, his birth, suffer- 
ings, and death, his constant habit of speaking of God 
as a distinct being from himself, his praying to God, his 
ascribing to God all his power and offices, these ac- 
knowledged properties of Christ, we say, oblige us to in- 
terpret the comparatively few passages which are thought 
to make him the Supreme God, in a manner consistent 
with his distinct and inferior nature. It is our duty to 
explain such texts by the rule which we apply to other 
texts, in which human beings are called gods, and are 
said to be partakers of the divine nature, to know and 
possess all things, and to be filled with all God's fulness. 
These latter passages we do not hesitate to modify, and 
restrain, and turn from the most obvious sense, because 
this sense is opposed to the know T n properties of the 
beings to whom they relate ; and we maintain, that we 
adhere to the same principle, and use no greater latitude, 
in explaining, as we do, the passages which are thought 
to support the Godhead of Christ. 

Trinitarians profess to derive some important advan- 
tages from their mode of viewing Christ. It furnishes 
them, they tell us, with an infinite atonement, for it 
shows them an infinite being suffering for their sins. 
The confidence with which this fallacy is repeated as- 
tonishes us. When pressed with the question, whether 
they really believe, that the infinite and unchangeable 
God suffered and died on the cross, they acknowledge 
that this is not true, but that Christ's human mind alone 
sustained the pains of death. How have we, then, an 
infinite sufferer ? This language seems to us an imposi- 
tion on common minds, and very derogatory to God's 
justice, as if this attribute could be satisfied by a sophism 
and a fiction. 



UNITARIAN CHRISTIANITY. 201 

We are also told, that Christ is a more interesting 
object, that his love and mercy are more felt, when he 
is viewed as the Supreme God, who left his glory to 
take humanity and to suffer for men. That Trinitarians 
are strongly moved by this representation, we do not 
mean to deny ; but we think their emotions altogethei 
founded on a misapprehension of their own doctrines. 
They talk of the second person of the Trinity's leaving 
his glory and his Father's bosom, to visit and save the 
world. But this second person, being the unchangeable 
and infinite God, was evidently incapable of parting 
with the least degree of his perfection and felicity. At 
the moment of his taking flesh, he was as intimately 
present with his Father as before, and equally with his 
Father filled heaven, and earth, and immensity. This 
Trinitarians acknowledge ; and still they profess to be 
touched and overwhelmed by the amazing humiliation 
of this immutable being ! But not only does their doc- 
trine, when fully explained, reduce Christ's humiliation 
to a fiction, it almost wholly destroys the impressions 
with which his cross ought to be viewed. According 
to their doctrine, Christ was comparatively no sufferer 
at all. It is true, his human mind suffered ; but this, 
they tell us, was an infinitely small part of Jesus, bear- 
ing no more proportion to his whole nature, than ? 
single hair of our heads to the whole body, or than a 
drop to the ocean. The divine mind of Christ, that 
which was most properly himself, was infinitely happy, 
at the very moment of the suffering of his humanity. 
Whilst hanging on the cross, he was the happiest being 
in the universe, as happy as the infinite father ; so that 
hi? pains, compared with his felicity, were nothing. 
This Trinitarians do, and must, acknowledge. It fol- 



202 UNITARIAN CHRISTIANITY. 

lows necessarily from the immutableness of the divine 

nature, which they ascribe to Christ ; so that their sys- 
tem, justly viewed, robs his death of interest, weakens 
our sympathy with his sufferings, and is, of all others, 
most unfavorable to a love of Christ, founded on a 
sense of his sacrifices for mankind. We esteem our 
own views to be vastly more affecting. It is our belief, 
that Christ's humiliation was real and entire, that the 
whole Saviour, and not a part of him, suffered, that 
his crucifixion was a scene of deep and unmixed agony. 
As we stand round his cross, our minds are not dis- 
tracted, nor our sensibility weakened, by contemplating 
him as composed of incongruous and infinitely differing 
minds, and as having a balance of infinite felicity. We 
recognise in the dying Jesus but one mind. This, we 
think, renders his sufferings, and his patience and love 
in bearing them, incomparably more impressive and af- 
fecting than the system we oppose. 

3. Having thus given our belief on two great points, 
namely, that there is one God, and that Jesus Christ 
is a being distinct from, and inferior to, God, I now 
proceed to another point, on which we lay still greater 
stress. We believe in the moral perfection of God. 
We consider no part of theology so important as that 
which treats of God's moral character ; and we value 
our views of Christianity chiefly as they assert his ami- 
able and venerable attributes. 

It may be said, that, in regard to this subject, all 
Christians agree, that all ascribe to the Supreme Being 
infinite justice, goodness, and holiness. We reply, that 
it is very possible to speak of God magnificently, and 
to think of him meanly ; to apply to his person high- 
sounding epithets, and to his government, principles 



UNITARIAN CHRISTIANITY. 203 

which make him odious. The Heathens called Jupiter 
the greatest and the best ; but his history was black 
with cruelty and lust. We cannot judge of men's real 
ideas of God by their general language, for in all ages 
they have hoped to soothe the Deity by adulation. We 
must inquire into their particular views of his purposes, 
of the principles of his administration, and of his dis- 
position towards his creatures. 

We conceive that Christians have generally leaned 
towards a very injurious view of the Supreme Being. 
They have too often felt, as if he were raised, by his 
greatness and sovereignty, above the principles of mo- 
rality, above those eternal laws of equity and rectitude, 
to which all other beings are subjected. We believe, 
that in no being is the sense of right so strong, so 
omnipotent, as in God. We believe that his almighty 
power is entirely submitted to his perceptions of rec- 
titude ; and this is the ground of our piety. It is not 
because he is our Creator merely, but because he cre- 
ated us for good and holy purposes ; it is not because 
his will is irresistible, but because his will is the per- 
fection of virtue, that we pay him allegiance. We can- 
not bow before a being, however great and powerful, 
who governs tyrannically. We respect nothing but ex- 
cellence, whether on earth or in heaven. We venerate 
not the loftiness of God's throne, but the equity and 
goodness in which it is established. 

We believe that God is infinitely good, kind, benevo- 
lent, in the proper sense of these words ; good in dis- 
position, as well as in act ; good, not to a few, but to 
all ; good to every individual, as well as to the general 
system. 

We believe, too, that God is just ; but we never 



204 UNITARIAN CHRISTIANITY. 

forget, that his justice is the justice of a good being, 
dwelling in the same mind, and acting in harmony, 
with perfect benevolence. By this attribute, we un- 
derstand God's infinite regard to virtue or moral worth_ 
expressed in a moral government ; that is, in giving 
excellent and equitable laws, and in conferring such re- 
wards, and inflicting such punishments, as are best fitted 
to secure their observance. God's justice has for its 
end the highest virtue of the creation, and it punishes 
for this end alone, and thus it coincides with benevo- 
lence ; for virtue and happiness, though not the same, 
are inseparably conjoined. 

God's justice thus viewed, appears to us to be in per- 
fect harmony with his mercy. According to the preva- 
lent systems of theology, these attributes are so discord- 
ant and jarring, that to reconcile them is the hardest 
task, and the most wonderful achievement, of infinite 
wisdom. To us they seem to be intimate friends, al- 
ways at peace* breathing the same spirit, and seeking 
the same end. By God's mercy, we understand not a 
blind instinctive compassion, which forgives without re- 
flection, and without regard to the interests of virtue. 
This, we acknowledge, would be incompatible with jus- 
tice, and also with enlightened benevolence. God's 
mercy, as we understand it, desires strongly the happi- 
ness of the guilty, but only through their penitence. It 
has a regard to character as truly as his justice. It 
defers punishment, and suffers long, that the sinner may 
return to his duty, but leaves the impenitent and un- 
yielding, to the fearful retribution threatened in God's 
Word. 

To give our views of God in one word, we believe 
in his Parental character. We ascribe to him, not only 



UNITARIAN CHRISTIANITY. 205 

the name, but the dispositions and principles of a fa- 
ther. We believe, that he has a father's concern for 
his creatures, a father's desire for their improvement, 
a father's equity in proportioning his commands to their 
powers, a father's joy in their progress, a father's readi- 
ness to receive the penitent, and a father's justice for 
the incorrigible. We look upon this world as a place 
of education, in which he is training men by prosperity 
and adversity, by aids and obstructions, by conflicts of 
reason and passion, by motives to duty and temptations 
to sin, by a various discipline suited to free and moral 
beings, for union with himself, and for a sublime and 
ever-growing virtue in heaven. 

Now, w T e object to the systems of religion, which 
prevail among us, that they are adverse, in a greater 
or less degree, to these purifying, comforting, and hon- 
orable views of God ; that they take from us our Fa- 
ther in heaven, and substitute for him a being, whom 
we cannot love if we would, and whom we ought not to 
love if we could. We object, particularly on this ground, 
to that system, which arrogates to itself the name of 
Orthodoxy, and which is now industriously propagated 
through our country. This system indeed takes various 
shapes, but in all it casts dishonor on the Creator. 
According to its old and genuine form, it teaches, that 
God brings us into life wholly depraved, so that under 
the innocent features of our childhood is hidden a na- 
ture averse to all good and propense to all evil, a nature 
which exposes us to God's displeasure and wrath, even 
before we have acquired power to understand our du- 
ties, or to reflect upon our actions. According to a 
more modern exposition, it teaches, that we came from 
the hands of our Maker with such a constitution, and are 

8 R 



206 UNITARIAN CHRISTIANITY. 

placed under such influences and circumstances, as to 
render certain and infallible the total, depravity of every 
human being, from the first moment of his moral agency; 
and it also teaches, that the offence of the child, who 
brings into life this ceaseless tendency to unmingled 
crime, exposes him to the sentence of everlasting dam- 
nation. Now, according to the plainest principles of 
morality, we maintain, that a natural constitution of the 
mind, unfailingly disposing it to evil and to evil alone, 
would absolve it from guilt ; that to give existence under 
this condition would argue unspeakable cruelty; and 
that to punish the sin of this unhappily constituted child 
w T ith endless ruin, would be a wrong unparalleled by the 
most merciless despotism. 

This system also teaches, that God selects from this 
corrupt mass a number to be saved, and plucks them, 
by a special influence, from the common ruin ; that the 
rest of mankind, though left without that special grace 
which their conversion requires, are commanded to re- 
pent, under penalty of aggravated w T oe ; and that for- 
giveness is promised them, on terms which their very 
constitution infallibly disposes them to reject, and in 
rejecting which they awfully enhance the punishments 
of hell. These proffers of forgiveness and exhortations 
of amendment, to beings born under a blighting curse, 
fill our minds with a horror which we want words to 
express. 

That this religious system does not produce all the 
effects on character, which might be anticipated, we 
most joyfully admit. It is often, very often, counter- 
acted by nature, conscience, common sense, by the 
general strain of Scripture, by the mild example and 
precepts of Christ, and by the many positive declara- 



UNITARIAN CHRISTIANITY. 207 

tions of God's universal kindness and perfect equity. 
But still we think that we see its unhappy influence. 
It tends to discourage the timid, to give excuses to the 
bad, to feed the vanity of the fanatical, and to offer 
shelter to the bad feelings of the malignant. By shock- 
ing, as it does, the fundamental principles of morality, 
and by exhibiting a severe and partial Deity, it tends 
strongly to pervert the moral faculty, to form a gloomy, 
forbidding, and servile religion, and to lead men to sub- 
stitute censoriousness, bitterness, and persecution, for a 
tender and impartial charity. We think, too, that this 
system, which begins with degrading human nature, may 
be expected to end in pride ; for pride grows out of a 
consciousness of high distinctions, however obtained, 
and no distinction is so great as that which is made be- 
tween the elected and abandoned of God. 

The false and dishonorable views of God, which 
have now been stated, we feel ourselves bound to resist 
unceasingly. Other errors we can pass over with com- 
parative indifference. But we ask our opponents to 
leave to us a God, worthy of our love and trust, in 
whom our moral sentiments may delight, in whom our 
weaknesses and sorrows may find refuge. We cling to 
the Divine perfections. We meet them everywhere in 
creation, we read them in the Scriptures, we see a 
lovely image of them in Jesus Christ ; and gratitude, 
love, and veneration call on us to assert them. Re- 
proached, as we often are, by men, it is our consolation 
and happiness, that one of our chief offences is the zeal 
with which we vindicate the dishonored goodness and 
rectitude of God. 

4. Having thus spoken of the unity of God ; of the 
unity of Jesus, and his inferiority to God ; and of the 



208 UNITARIAN CHRISTIANITY. 

perfections of the Divine character ; I now proceed to 
give our views of the mediation of Christ, and of the 
purposes of his mission. With regard to the great ob- 
ject which Jesus came to accomplish, there seems to be 
no possibility of mistake. We believe, that he was sent 
by the Father to effect a moral, or spiritual deliverance 
of mankind ; that is, to rescue men from sin and its 
consequences, and to bring them to a state of everlast- 
ing purity and happiness. We believe, too, that he ac- 
complishes this sublime purpose by a variety of meth- 
ods; by his instructions respecting God's unity, parental 
character, and moral government, which are admirably 
fitted to reclaim the world from idolatry and impiety, 
to the knowledge, love, and obedience of the Creator ; 
by his promises of pardon to the penitent, and of divine 
assistance to those who labor for progress in moral ex- 
cellence ; by the light which he has thrown on the path 
of duty ; by his own spotless example, in which the 
loveliness and sublimity of virtue shine forth to warm 
and quicken, as well as guide us to perfection ; by his 
threatenings against incorrigible guilt ; by his glorious dis- 
coveries of immortality ; by his sufferings and death : 
by that signal event, the resurrection, which powerfully 
bore witness to his divine mission, and brought down to 
men's senses a future life ; by his continual intercession, 
which obtains for us spiritual aid and blessings ; and by 
the power with which he is invested of raising the dead, 
judging the world, and conferring the everlasting rewards 
promised to the faithful. 

We have no desire to conceal the fact, that a dif- 
ference of opinion exists among us, in regard to an in- 
teresting part of Christ's mediation ; I mean, in regard 
to the precise influence of his death on our forgiveness. 



UNITARIAN CHRISTIANITY. 



209 



Many suppose, that this event contributes to our par- 
don, as it was a principal means of confirming his re- 
ligion, and of giving it a power over the mind ; in other 
words, that it procures forgiveness by leading to that 
repentance and virtue, which is the great and only con- 
dition on which forgiveness is bestowed. Many of us 
are dissatisfied with this explanation, and think that the 
Scriptures ascribe the remission of sins to Christ's death, 
with an emphasis so peculiar, that we ought to consider 
this event as having a special influence in removing 
punishment, though the Scriptures may not reveal the 
way in which it contributes to this end. 

Whilst, however, we differ in explaining the con- 
nexion between Christ's death and human forgiveness, 
a connexion which we all gratefully acknowledge, we 
agree in rejecting many sentiments which prevail in 
regard to his mediation. The idea, which is conveyed 
to common minds by the popular system, that Christ's 
death has an influence in making God placable, or mer- 
ciful, in awakening his kindness towards men, we reject 
with strong disapprobation. We are happy to find, 
that this very dishonorable notion is disowned by in- 
telligent Christians of that class from which we differ. 
We recollect, however, that, not long ago, it was com- 
mon to hear of Christ, as having died to appease God's 
wrath, and to pay the debt of sinners to his inflexible 
justice ; and we have a strong persuasion, that the lan- 
guage of popular religious books, and the common mode 
of stating the doctrine of Christ's mediation, still com- 
municate very degrading views of God's character. 
They give to multitudes the impression, that the death 
of Jesus produces a change in the mind of God to- 
wards man, and that in this its efficacy chiefly consists. 
8* R* 



210 UNITARIAN CHRISTIANITY. 

No error seems to us more pernicious. We can endure 
no shade over the pure goodness of God. We earn- 
estly maintain, that Jesus, instead of calling forth, in 
any way or degree, the mercy of the Father, was sent 
by that mercy, to be our Saviour; that he is nothing 
to the human race, but what he is by God's appoint- 
ment ; that he communicates nothing but what God em- 
powers him to bestow ; that our Father in heaven is 
originally, essentially, and eternally placable, and dis- 
posed to forgive ; and thai his unborrowed, underivedj 
and unchangeable love is the only fountain of what 
flows to us through his Son. We conceive, that Jesus 
is dishonored, not glorified, by ascribing to him an in- 
fluence, which clouds the splendor of Divine benevo- 
lence. 

We farther agree in rejecting, as unscriptural and 
absurd, the explanation given by the popular system, 
of the manner in which Christ's death procures for- 
giveness for men. This system used to teach as its 
fundamental principle, that man, having sinned against 
an infinite Being, has contracted infinite guilt, and is 
consequently exposed to an infinite penalty. We believe? 
however, that this reasoning, if reasoning it may be 
called, which overlooks the obvious maxim, that the 
guilt of a being must be proportioned to his nature and 
powers, has fallen into disuse. Still the system teach- 
es, that sin, of whatever degree, exposes to endless 
punishment, and that the whole human race, being in- 
fallibly involved by their nature in sin, owe this awful 
penalty to the justice of their Creator. It teaches, that 
this penalty cannot be remitted, in consistency with the 
honor of the divine law, unless a substitute be found 
to endure it or to suffer an equivalent. It also teaches > 



UNITARIAN CHRISTIANITY. 211 

that, from the nature of the case, no substitute is ade- 
quate to this work, save the infinite God himself; and 
accordingly, God, in his second person, took on him 
human nature, that he might pay to his own justice the 
debt of punishment incurred by men, and might thus 
reconcile forgiveness with the claims and threatenings 
of his law. Such is the prevalent system. Now, to 
us, this doctrine seems to carry on its front strong 
marks of absurdity ; and we maintain that Christianity 
ought not to be encumbered with it, unless it be laid 
down in the New Testament fully and expressly. We 
ask our adversaries, then, to point to some plain passages 
where it is taught. We ask for one text, in which we 
are told, that God took human nature that he might 
make an infinite satisfaction to his own justice ; for one 
text, which tells us, that human guilt requires an infinite 
substitute ; that Christ's sufferings owe their efficacy 
to their being borne by an infinite being ; or that his 
divine nature gives infinite value to the sufferings of the 
human. Not one word of this description can we find 
in the Scriptures ; not a text, which even hints at these 
strange doctrines. They are altogether, we believe, 
the fictions of theologians. Christianity is in no degree 
responsible for them. We are astonished at their prev- 
alence. What can be plainer, than that God cannot, 
in any sense, be a sufferer, or bear a penalty in the 
room of his creatures ? How dishonorable to him is 
the supposition, that his justice is now so severe, as to 
exact infinite punishment for the sins of frail and feeble 
men, and now so easy and yielding, as to accept the 
limited pains of Christ's human soul, as a full equiva- 
lent for the endless woes due from the world ? How 
plain is it also, according to this doctrine, that God, 



212 UBITABIAS CHRISTIAXITr. 

instead of being plenteous in forgiveness, never for- 
gives ; for it seems absurd to speak of men as forgiven, 
when their whole punishment, or an equivalent to it, is 
borne by a substitute .* A scheme more fitted to ob- 
scure the brightness of Christianity and the mercy of 
God. or less suited to give comfort to a guilty and 
troubled mind, could not. we think, be easily framed. 

We believe, too, that this system is unfavorable to 
the character. It naturally leads men to think, that 
Christ came to change God's mind rather than their 
own ; that the highest object of his mission was to 
avert punishment, rather than to communicate holiness ; 
and that a large part of religion consists in disparaging 
good works and human virtue, for the purpose of mag- 
ig the value of Christ's vicarious sufferings. In 
this way. a sense of the infinite importance and indis- 
pensable necessity of personal improvement is weak- 
ened, and high-sounding praises of Christ's cross seem 
often to be substituted for obedience to his precepts. 
For ourselves, we have not so learned Jesus. Whilst 
we gratefully acknowledge, that he came to rescue us 
from punishment, we believe, that he vras sent on a still 
nobler errand, namely, to deliver us from sin itself, and 
to form us to a sublime and heavenly virtue. We re- 
gard him as a Saviour, chiefly as he is the light, phy- 
sician, and guide of the dark, diseased, and wander- 
ing mind. INo influence in the universe seems to us sd 
glorious, as that over the character : and no redemption 
so worthy of thankfulness, as the restoration of the 
soul to purity. Without this, pardon, were it possible, 
would be of little value. Why pluck the sinner from 
hell, if a hell be left to burn in his own breast ? Why 
aise him to heaven, if he remain a stranger to its sane- 



UNITARIAN CHRISTIANITY. 213 

tity and love ? With these impressions, we are ac- 
customed to value the Gospel chiefly as it abounds in 
effectual aids, motives, excitements to a generous and 
divine virtue. In this virtue, as in a common centre, 
we see all its doctrines, precepts, promises meet ; and 
we believe, that faith in this religion is of no worth, 
and contributes nothing to salvation, any farther than as 
it uses these doctrines, precepts, promises, and the whole 
life, character, sufferings, and triumphs of Jesus, as the 
means of purifying the mind, of changing it into the 
likeness of his celestial excellence. 

5. Having thus stated our views of the highest ob- 
ject of Christ's mission, that it is the recovery of men 
to virtue, or holiness, I shall now, in the last place, 
give our views of the nature of Christian virtue, or 
true holiness. We believe that all virtue has its foun- 
dation in the moral nature of man, that is, in conscience, 
or his sense of duty, and in the power of forming his 
temper and life according to conscience. We believe 
that these moral faculties are the grounds of respon- 
sibility, and the highest distinctions of human nature, 
and that no act is praiseworthy, any farther than it 
springs from their exertion. We believe, that no dis- 
positions infused into us without our own moral activity, 
are of the nature of virtue, and therefore, we reject the 
doctrine of irresistible divine influence on the human 
mind, moulding it into goodness, as marble is hewn 
into a statue. Such goodness, if this word may be 
used, would not be the object of moral approbation, 
any more than the instinctive affections of inferior ani- 
mals, or the constitutional amiableness of human beings. 

By these remarks, we do not mean to deny the im- 
portance of God's aid or Spirit ; but by his Spirit, we 



214 UXITARIAX CHRISTIANITY. 

mean a moral, illuminating, and persuasive influence, 
not physical, not compulsory, not involving a necessity 
of virtue. We object, strongly, to the idea of many 
Christians respecting man's impotence and God's irre- 
sistible agency on the heart, believing that they subvert 
our responsibility and the laws of our moral nature, that 
they make men machines, that they cast on God the 
blame of all evil deeds, that they discourage good minds, 
and inflate the fanatical with wild conceits of immediate 
and sensible inspiration. 

Among the virtues, we give the first place to the love 
of God. We believe, that this principle is the true end 
and happiness of our being, that we were made for 
union with our Creator, that his infinite perfection is 
the only sufficient object and true resting-place for the 
insatiable desires and unlimited capacities of the human 
mind, and that, without him, our noblest sentiments, ad- 
miration, veneration, hope, and love, would wither and 
decay. We believe, too, that the love of God is not 
only essential to happiness, but to the strength and per- 
fection of all the virtues ; that conscience, without the 
sanction of God's authority and retributive justice, would 
be a weak director ; that benevolence, unless nourished 
by communion with his goodness, and encouraged by 
his smile, could not thrive amidst the selfishness and 
thanklessness of the world ; and that self-government, 
without a sense of the divine inspection, would hardlv 
extend beyond an outward and partial purity. God, 
as he is essentially goodness, holiness, justice, and vir- 
tue, so he is the life, motive, and sustainer of virtue in 
the human soul. 

But, whilst we earnestly inculcate the love of God, 
we believe that great care is necessary to distinguish it 



UNITARIAN CHRISTIANITY. 215 

from counterfeits. We think that much which is called 
piety is worthless. Many have fallen into the error, 
that there can be no excess in feelings which have God 
for their object ; and, distrusting as coldness that self- 
possession, without which virtue and devotion lose all 
their dignity, they have abandoned themselves to extrav- 
agances, which have brought contempt on piety. Most 
certainly, if the love of God be that which often bears 
its name, the less we have of it the better. If religion 
be the shipwreck of understanding, we cannot keep too 
far from it. On this subject, we always speak plainly. 
We cannot sacrifice our reason to the reputation of 
zeaL We owe it to truth and religion to maintain, 
that fanaticism, partial insanity, sudden impressions, 
and ungovernable transports, are any thing rather than 
piety. 

We conceive, that the true love of God is a moral 
sentiment, founded on a clear perception, and consisting 
in a high esteem and veneration, of his moral perfec- 
tions. Thus, it perfectly coincides, and is in fact the 
same thing, with the love of virtue, rectitude, and good- 
ness. You will easily judge, then, what we esteem the 
surest and only decisive signs of piety. We lay no 
stress on strong excitements. We esteem him, and him 
only a pious man, who practically conforms to God's 
moral perfections and government ; who shows his de- 
light in God's benevolence, by loving and serving his 
neighbour ; his delight in God's justice, by being reso- 
lutely upright ; his sense of God's purity, by regulating 
his thoughts, imagination, and desires ; and whose con- 
versation, business, and domestic life are swayed by a 
regard to God's presence and authority. In all things 
else men may deceive themselves. Disordered nerves 



216 UNITARIAN CHRISTIANITY. 

may give them strange sights, and sounds, and impres- 
sions. Texts of Scripture may come to them as from 
Heaven. Their whole souls may be moved, and their 
confidence in God's favor be undoubting. But in all 
this there is no religion. The question is, Do they love 
God's commands, in which his character is fully ex- 
pressed, and give up to these their habits and passions ? 
Without this, ecstasy is a mockery. One surrender 
of desire to God's will, is worth a thousand transports. 
We do not judge of the bent of men's minds by their 
raptures, any more than we judge of the natural direc- 
tion of a tree during a storm. We rather suspect loud 
profession, for we have observed, that deep feeling is 
generally noiseless, and least seeks display. 

We would not, by these remarks, be understood as 
wishing to exclude from religion warmth, and even 
transport. We honor, and highly value, true religious 
sensibility. We believe, that Christianity is intended 
to act powerfully on our whole nature, on the heart as 
well as the understanding and the conscience. We 
conceive of heaven as a state where the love of God 
will be exalted into an unbounded fervor and joy ; and 
we desire, in our pilgrimage here, to drink into the 
spirit of that better world. But we think, that religious 
warmth is only to be valued, when it springs naturally 
from an improved character, when it comes unforced, 
when it is the recompense of obedience, when it is the 
warmth of a mind which understands God by being like 
him, and when, instead of disordering, it exalts the 
understanding, invigorates conscience, gives a pleasure 
to common duties, and is seen to exist in connexion 
with cheerfulness, judiciousness, and a reasonable frame 
of mind. When we observe a fervor, called religious, 



UNITARIAN CHRISTIANITY. 217 

in men whose general character expresses little refine 
ment and elevation, and whose piety seems at war with 
reason, we pay it little respect. We honor religion 
too much to give its sacred name to a feverish, forced, 
fluctuating zeal, which has little power over the life. 

Another important branch of virtue, we believe to be 
love to Christ. The greatness of the work of Jesus, 
the spirit with which he executed it, and the sufferings 
which he bore for our salvation, we feel to be strong 
claims on our gratitude and veneration. We see in na- 
ture no beauty to be compared with the loveliness of his 
character, nor do we find on earth a benefactor to whom 
we owe an equal debt. We read his history with de- 
light, and learn from it the perfection of our nature. 
We are particularly touched by his death, which was 
endured for our redemption, and by that strength of 
charity which triumphed over his pains. His resurrec- 
tion is the foundation of our hope of immortality. His 
intercession gives us boldness to draw nigh to the throne 
of grace, and we look up to heaven with new desire, 
when we think, that, if we follow him here, we shall 
there see his benignant countenance, and enjoy his 
friendship for ever. 

I need not express to you our views on the subject 
of the benevolent virtues. We attach such importance 
to these, that we are sometimes reproached with exalt- 
ing them above piety. We regard the spirit of love, 
chanty, meekness, forgiveness, liberality, and benefi- 
cence, as the badge and distinction of Christians, as the 
brightest image we can bear of God, as the best proof 
of piety. On this subject, I need not, and cannoc en- 
large ; but there is one branch of benevolence which I 
ought not to pass over in silence, because we think that 

9 s 



218 UNITARIAN CHRISTIANITY. 

we conceive of it more highly and justly than many of 
our brethren. I refer to the duty of candor, charitable 
judgment, especially towards those who differ in religious 
opinion. We think, that in nothing have Christians so 
widely departed from their religion, as in this particular. 
We read with astonishment and horror, the history of 
the church ; and sometimes when we look back on the 
fires of persecution, and on the zeal of Christians, in 
building up walls of separation, and in giving up one 
another to perdition, we feel as if we were reading the 
records of an infernal, rather than a heavenly kingdom. 
An enemy to every religion, if asked to describe a 
Christian, would, with some show of reason, depict him 
as an idolater of his own distinguishing opinions, covered 
with badges of party, shutting his eyes on the virtues, 
and his ears on the arguments, of his opponents, arrogat- 
ing all excellence to his own sect and all saving power 
to his own creed, sheltering under the name of pious 
zeal the love of domination, the conceit of infallibility, 
and the spirit of intolerance, and trampling on men's 
rights under the pretence of saving their souls. 

We can hardly conceive of a plainer obligation on 
beings of our frail and fallible nature, who are instructed 
in the duty of candid judgment, than to abstain from 
condemning men of apparent conscientiousness and sin- 
cerity, who are chargeable with no crime but that of 
differing from us in the interpretation of the Scriptures, 
and differing, too, on topics of great and acknowledged 
obscurity. We are astonished at the hardihood of those, 
who, with Christ's warnings sounding in their ears, take 
on them the responsibility of making creeds for his 
church, and cast out professors of virtuous lives for im- 
agined errors, for the guilt of thinking for themselves. 



UNITARIAN CHRISTIANITY. 219 

We know that zeal for truth is the cover for this usur- 
pation of Christ's prerogative ; but we think that zeal 
for truth, as it is called, is very suspicious, except in 
men, whose capacities and advantages, whose patient 
deliberation, and whose improvements in humility, mild- 
ness, and candor, give them a right to hope that their 
views are more just than those of their neighbours. 
Much of what passes for a zeal for truth, we look upon 
with little respect, for it often appears to thrive most 
luxuriantly where other virtues shoot up thinly and 
feebly ; and we have no gratitude for those reformers, 
who would force upon us a doctrine which has not 
sweetened their own tempers, or made them better men 
than their neighbours. 

We are accustomed to think much of the difficul- 
ties attending religious inquiries ; difficulties springing 
from the slow developement of our minds, from the 
power of early impressions, from the state of society, 
from human authority, from the general neglect of the 
reasoning powers, from the want of just principles of 
criticism and of important helps in interpreting Scrip- 
ture, and from various other causes. We find, that on 
no subject have men, and even good men, ingrafted so 
many strange conceits, wild theories, and fictions of fan- 
cy, as on religion ; and remembering, as we do, that 
we ourselves are sharers of the common frailty, we dare 
not assume infallibility in the treatment of our fellow- 
Christians, or encourage in common Christians, who 
have little time for investigation, the habit of denoun- 
cing and contemning other denominations, perhaps more 
enlightened and virtuous than their own. Charity, for- 
bearance, a delight in the virtues of different sects, a 
backwardness to censure and condemn, these are vir- 



220 UNITARIAN CHRISTIANITY. 

tues, which, however poorly practised by us. we admire 
and recommend ; and we would rather join ourselves to 
the church in which they abound, than to any other 
communion, however elated with the belief of its own 
orthodoxy, however strict in guarding its creed, however 
burning with zeal against imagined error, 

I have thus given the distinguishing views of those 
Christians in whose names I have spoken. \Ve have 
embraced this system, not hastily or lightly, but after 
much deliberation ; and we hold it fast, not merely be- 
cause we believe it to be true, but because we regard it 
as purifying truth, as a doctrine according to godliness, as 
able to :; work mightily ■' and to " bring forth fircfit" in 
them who believe. That we wish to spread it, we have 
no desire to conceal ; but we think, that we wish its 
diffusion, because we regard it as more friendly to prac- 
tical piety and pure morals than the opposite doctrines, 
because it gives clearer and nobler views of duty, and 
stronger motives to its performance, because it recom- 
mends religion at once to the understanding and the 
heart, because it asserts the lovely and venerable attri- 
butes of God, because it tends to restore the benevolent 
spirit of Jesus to his divided and afflicted church, and 
because it cuts off every hope of God's favor, except 
that which springs from practical conformity to the life 
and precepts of Christ. \Te see nothing in our views 
to give offence, save their purity, and it is their purity, 
which makes us seek and hope their extension throush 
the world. 

My friend and brother ; — You are this day to take 
upon you important duties ; to be clothed with an office, 
which the Son of God did not disdain ; to devote vour- 



UNITARIAN CHRISTIANITY 221 

self to that religion, which the most hallowed lips have 
preached, and the most precious blood sealed. We 
trust that you will bring to this work a willing mind, a 
firm purpose, a martyr's spirit, a readiness to toil and 
suffer for the truth, a devotion of your best powers to 
the interests of piety and virtue. I have spoken of the 
doctrines which you will probably preach ; but I do not 
mean, that you are to give yourself to controversy. 
You will remember, that good practice is the end of 
preaching, and will labor to make your people holy liv- 
ers, rather than skilful disputants. Be careful, lest the 
desire of defending what you deem truth, and of repel- 
ling reproach and misrepresentation, turn you aside from 
your great business, which is to fix in men's minds a 
living conviction of the obligation, sublimity, and happi- 
ness of Christian virtue. The best way to vindicate 
your sentiments, is to show, in your preaching and life, 
their intimate connexion with Christian morals, with a 
high and delicate sense of duty, with candor towards 
your opposers, with inflexible integrity, and with an ha- 
bitual reverence for God. If any light can pierce and 
scatter the clouds of prejudice, it is that of a pure ex- 
ample. My brother, may your life preach more loudly 
than your lips. Be to this people a pattern of all good 
works, and may your instructions derive authority from 
a well-grounded belief in your hearers, that you speak 
from the heart, that you preach from experience, that 
the truth which you dispense has wrought powerfully in 
your own heart, that God, and Jesus, and heaven, are 
not merely words on your lips, but most affecting reali- 
ties to your mind, and springs of hope and consolation, 
and strength, in all your trials. Thus laboring, may 
you reap abundantly, and have a testimony of your faith- 
9* s* 



222 UNITARIAN CHRISTIANITF. 

fulness, not only in your own conscience, but in the 
esteem, love, virtues, and improvements of your people. 
To all who hear me, I would say, with the Apostle, 
Prove all things, hold fast that which is good. Do not, 
brethren, shrink from the duty of searching God's Word 
for yourselves, through fear of human censure and de- 
nunciation. Do not think, that you may innocently fol- 
low the opinions which prevail around you, without in- 
vestigation, on the ground, that Christianity is now so 
purified from errors, as to need no laborious research. 
There is much reason to believe, that Christianity is at 
this moment dishonored by gross and cherished corrup- 
tions. If you remember the darkness which hung over 
the Gospel for ages ; if you consider the impure union, 
which still subsists in almost every Christian country, 
between the church and state, and which enlists men's 
selfishness and ambition on the side of established 
error ; if you recollect in what degree the spirit of in- 
tolerance has checked free inquiry, not only before, but 
since the Reformation ; you will see that Christianity 
cannot have freed itself from all the human inventions, 
which disfigured it under the Papal tyranny. No. Much 
stubble is yet to be burned ; much rubbish to be re- 
moved ; many gaudy decorations, which a false taste has 
hung around Christianity, must be swept away ; and the 
earth-born fogs, which have long shrouded it, must be 
scattered, before this divine fabric will rise before us in 
its native and awful majesty, in its harmonious propor- 
tions, in its mild and celestial splendors. This glorious 
reformation in the church, we hope, under God's bless- 
ing, from the progress of the human intellect, from the 
moral progress of society, from the consequent decline 
of prejudice and bigotry, and, though last not least, from 



UNITARIAN CHRISTIANITY. 223 

the subversion of human authority in matters of religion, 
from the fall of those hierarchies, and other human insti- 
tutions, by which the minds of individuals are oppressed 
under the weight of numbers, and a Papal dominion is 
perpetuated in the Protestant church. Our earnest 
prayer to God is, that he will overturn, and overturn, 
and overturn the strong-holds of spiritual usurpation, until 
he shall come, whose right it is to rule the minds of 
men ; that the conspiracy of ages against the liberty of 
Christians may be brought to an end ; that the servile 
assent, so long yielded to human creeds, may give place 
to honest and devout inquiry into the Scriptures ; and 
that Christianity, thus purified from error, may put forth 
its almighty energy, and prove itself, by its ennobling in- 
fluence on the mind, to be indeed " the power of God 
unto salvation." 



UNITARIAN CHRISTIANITY 
MOST FAVORABLE TO PIETY. 



DISCOURSE 

AT THE 

DEDICATION OF THE SECOND CONGREGATIONAL 

UNITARIAN CHURCH. 

New York, 1826. 



Mark xii. 29, 30 : " And Jesus answered him, The first of all the 
commandments is, Hear, O Israel ; The Lord our God is one 
Lord. And thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy 
heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind, and with 
all thy strength. This is the first commandment." 

We have assembled to dedicate this building to the 
worship of the only living and true God, and to the 
teaching of the religion of his son, Jesus Christ. By 
this act we do not expect to confer on this spot of ground 
and these walls any peculiar sanctity or any mysterious 
properties. We do not suppose, that, in consequence 
of rites now performed, the worship offered here will 
be more acceptable than prayer uttered in the closet, 
or breathed from the soul in the midst of business ; or 
that the instructions delivered from this pulpit will be 
more effectual, than if they were uttered in a private 
dwelling or the open air. By dedication we understand 



226 UNITARIAN CHRISTIANITY 

only a solemn expression of the purpose for which this 
building is reared, joined with prayer to Him, who 
alone can crown our enterprise with success, that our 
design may be accepted arid fulfilled. For this religious 
act, we find indeed no precept in the New Testament, 
and on this account some have scrupled as to its pro- 
priety. But we are not among those who consider the 
written Word as a statute-book, by the letter of which 
every step in life must be governed. We believe, on 
the other hand, that one of the great excellences of 
Christianity is, that it does not deal in minute regula- 
tion, but that, having given broad views of duty, and 
enjoined a pure and disinterested spirit, it leaves us 
to apply these rules and express this spirit according 
to the promptings of the divine monitor within us, and 
according to the claims and exigencies of the ever vary- 
ing conditions in which we are placed. We believe, 
too, that revelation is not intended to supersede God's 
other modes of instruction ; that it is not intended to 
drown, but to make more audible, the voice of nature. 
Now, nature dictates the propriety of such an act as we 
are this day assembled to perform. Nature has always 
taught men, on the completion of an important struc- 
ture, designed for public and lasting good, to solemnize 
its first appropriation to the purpose for which it was 
reared, by some special service. To us there is a 
sacredness in this moral instinct, in this law written on 
the heart ; and in listening reverently to God's dictates, 
however conveyed, we doubt not that we shall enjoy 
his acceptance and blessing. 

I have said, we dedicate this building to the teaching 
of the Gospel of Christ. But in the present state of 
the Christian church, these words are not as definite as 



MOST FAVORABLE TO PIETY. 227 

they one day will be. This Gospel is variously inter- 
preted. It is preached in various forms. Christendom 
is parcelled out into various sects. When, therefore, 
we see a new house of worship reared, the question 
immediately arises, To what mode of teaching Chris- 
tianity is it to be devoted ? I need not tell you, my 
hearers, that this house has been built by that class of 
Christians, who are called Unitarians, and that the Gos- 
pel will here be taught, as interpreted by that body of 
believers. This you all know ; but perhaps all present 
have not attached a very precise meaning to the word, 
by which our particular views of Christianity are desig- 
nated. Unitarianism has been made a term of so much 
reproach, and has been uttered in so many tones of 
alarm, horror, indignation, and scorn, that to many it 
gives only a vague impression of something monstrous, 
impious, unutterably perilous. To such, I would say, 
that this doctrine, which is considered by some as the 
last and most perfect invention of Satan, the consum- 
mation of his blasphemies, the most cunning weapon 
ever forged in the fires of hell, amounts to this, — That 
there is One God, even the Father ; and that Jesus 
Christ is not this One God, but his son and messenger, 
who derived all his powers and glories from the Univer- 
sal Parent, and who came into the -world not to claim 
supreme homage for himself, but to carry up the soul 
to his Father as the Only Divine Person, the Only Ulti- 
mate Object of religious worship. To us, this doctrine 
seems not to have sprung from hell, but to have de- 
scended from the throne of God, and to invite and 
attract us thither. To us it seems to come from the 
Scriptures, with a voice loud as the sound of many 
waters, and as articulate and clear as if Jesus, in a 



228 UNITARIAN CHRISTIANITY 

bodily form, were pronouncing it distinctly in our ears. 
To this doctrine, and to Christianity interpreted in con- 
sistency with it, we dedicate this building. 

That we desire to propagate this doctrine, we do not 
conceal. It is a treasure, which we wish not to confine 
to ourselves, which we dare not lock up in our own 
breasts. We regard it as given to us for others, as well 
as for ourselves. We should rejoice to spread it through 
this great city, to carry it into every dwelling, and to 
send it far and wide to the remotest settlements of our 
country. Am I asked, why we wish this diffusion ? 
We dare not say, that we are in no degree influenced 
by sectarian feeling ; for we see it raging around us, and 
we should be more than men, were we wholly to escape 
an epidemic passion. We do hope, however, that our 
main purpose and aim is not sectarian, but to promote 
a purer and nobler piety than now prevails. We are 
not induced to spread our opinions by the mere convic- 
tion that they are true ; for there are many truths, his- 
torical, metaphysical, scientific, literary, which we have 
no anxiety to propagate. We regard them as the high- 
est, most important, most efficient truths, and therefore 
demanding a firm testimony, and earnest efforts to make 
them known. In thus speaking, we do not mean, that 
we regard our peculiar views as essential to salvation. 
Far from us be this spirit of exclusion, the very spirit 
of antichrist, the worst of all the delusions of Popery 
and of Protestantism. We hold nothing to be essential, 
but the simple and supreme dedication of the mind, 
heart, and life to God and to^ his will. This inward 
and practical devotedness to the Supreme Being, we are 
assured, is attained and accepted under all the forms of 
Christianity. We believe, however, that it is favored 



MOST FAVORABLE TO PIETY. 229 

by that truth which we maintain, as by no other system 
of faith. We regard Unitarianism as peculiarly the 
friend of inward, living, practical religion. For this we 
value it. For this we would spread it ; and we desire 
none to embrace it, but such as shall seek and derive 
from it this celestial influence. 

This character and property of Unitarian Christian- 
ity, its fitness to promote true, deep, and living piety, 
being our chief ground of attachment to it, and our 
chief motive for dedicating this house to its inculcation, 
I have thought proper to make this the topic of my 
present discourse. I do not propose to prove the truth 
of Unitarianism by Scriptural authorities, for this argu- 
ment would exceed the limits of a sermon, but to show 
its superior tendency to form an elevated religious char- 
acter. If, however, this position can be sustained, I 
shall have contributed no weak argument in support of 
the truth of our views ; for the chief purpose of Chris- 
tianity undoubtedly is, to promote piety, to bring us to 
God, to fill our souls with that Great Being, to make 
us alive to him ; and a religious system can carry no 
more authentic mark of a divine original, than its obvi- 
ous, direct, and peculiar adaptation to quicken and raise 
the mind to its Creator. — In speaking thus of Unitarian 
Christianity as promoting piety, I ought to observe, that 
I use this word in its proper and highest sense. I mean 
not every thing which bears the name of piety, for under 
this title superstition, fanaticism, and formality are walk- 
ing abroad and claiming respect. I mean not an anxious 
frame of mind, not abject and slavish fear, not a dread 
of hell, not a repetition of forms, not church-going, not 
loud profession, not severe censure of others' irreligion ; 
but filial love and reverence towards God, habitual grati- 

T 



230 



UNITARIAN CHRISTIANITY 



tude, cheerful trust, ready obedience, and, though last 
not least, an imitation of the ever-active and unbounded 
benevolence of the Creator. 

The object of this discourse requires me to speak 
with great freedom of different systems of religion. But 
let me not be misunderstood. Let not the uncharitable- 
ness, which I condemn, be lightly laid to my charge. 
Let it be remembered, that I speak only of systems, 
not of those who embrace them. In setting forth with 
all simplicity what seem to me the good or bad tenden- 
cies of doctrines, I have not a thought of giving stand- 
ards or measures by which to estimate the virtue or vice 
of their professors. Nothing would be more unjust, 
than to decide on men's characters from their peculiari- 
ties of faith; and the reason is plain. Such peculiari- 
ties are not the only causes which impress and determine 
the mind. Our nature is exposed to innumerable other 
influences. If indeed a man were to know nothing but 
his creed, were to meet with no human beings but those 
who adopt it, were to see no example and to hear no 
conversation, but such as were formed by it ; if his 
creed were to meet him everywhere, and to exclude 
every other object of thought ; then his character might 
be expected to answer to it with great precision. But 
our Creator has not shut us up in so narrow a school. 
The mind is exposed to an infinite variety of influences, 
and these are multiplying with the progress of society. 
Education, friendship, neighbourhood, public opinion, 
the state of society, "the genius of the place" where 
we live, books, events, the pleasures and business of life, 
the outward creation, our physical temperament, and in- 
numerable other causes, are perpetually pouring in upon 
the soul thoughts, views, and emotions ; and these infln- 



MOST FAVORABLE TO PIETY. 231 

ences are so complicated, so peculiarly combined in the 
case of every individual, and so modified by the original 
susceptibilities and constitution of every mind, that on 
no subject is there greater uncertainty, than on the 
formation of character. To determine the precise op- 
eration of a religious opinion amidst this host of influ- 
ences, surpasses human power. A great truth may 
be completely neutralized by the countless impressions 
and excitements, which the mind receives from other 
sources ; and so a great error may be disarmed of much 
of its power, by the superior energy of other and bet- 
ter views, of early habits, and of virtuous examples. 
Nothing is more common than to see a doctrine be- 
lieved without swaying the will. Its efficacy depends, 
not on the assent of the intellect, but on the place which 
it occupies in the thoughts, on the distinctness and vivid- 
ness with which it is conceived, on its association with 
our common ideas, on its frequency of recurrence, and 
on its command of the attention, without which it has 
no life. Accordingly, pernicious opinions are not sel- 
dom held by men of the most illustrious virtue. I mean 
not, then, in commending or condemning systems, to 
pass sentence on their professors. I know the power 
of the mind to select from a multifarious system, for 
its habitual use, those features or principles which are 
generous, pure, and ennobling, and by these, to sustain 
its spiritual life amidst the nominal profession of many 
errors. I know that a creed is one thing, as written 
in a book, and another, as it exists in the minds of its 
advocates. In the book, all the doctrines appear in 
equally strong and legible lines. In the mind, many 
are faintly traced and seldom recurred to, whilst others 
are inscribed as with sunbeams, and are the chosen, 

15 



232 UNITARIAN CHRISTIANITY 

constant lights of the soul. Hence, in good men of 
opposing denominations, a real agreement may subsist 
as to their vital principles of faith ; and amidst the 
division of tongues, there may be unity of soul, and the 
same internal worship of God. By these remarks, I 
do not mean that error is not evil, or that it bears no 
pernicious fruit. Its tendencies are always bad. But 
I mean, that these tendencies exert themselves amidst 
so many counteracting influences ; and that injurious 
opinions so often lie dead, through the want of mixture 
with the common thoughts, through the mind's not 
absorbing them, and changing them into its own sub- 
stance ; that the highest respect may, and ought to 
be cherished for men, in whose creed we find much to 
disapprove. In this discourse I shall speak freely, and 
some may say severely, of Trinitarianism ; but I love 
and honor not a few of its advocates ; and in oppos- 
ing what I deem their error, I would on no account 
detract from their worth. After these remarks, I hope 
that the language of earnest discussion and strong con- 
viction will not be construed into the want of that 
charity, which I acknowledge as the first grace of our 
religion. 

I now proceed to illustrate and prove the superiority 
of Unitarian Christianity, as a means of promoting a 
deep and noble piety. 

I. Unitarianism is a system most favorable to piety, 
because it presents to the mind One, and only one, In- 
finite Person, to whom supreme homage is to be paid. 
It does not weaken the energy of religious sentiment 
by dividing it among various objects. It collects and 
concentrates the soul on One Father of unbounded, 
undivided, unrivalled glory. To Him it teaches the 



MOST FAVORABLE TO PIETY. 233 

mind to rise through all beings. Around Him it gathers 
all the splendors of the universe. To Him it teaches 
us to ascribe whatever good we receive or behold, the 
beauty and magnificence of nature, the liberal gifts of 
Providence, the capacities of the soul, the bonds of 
society, and especially the riches of grace and redemp- 
tion, the mission, and powers, and beneficent influences 
of Jesus Christ. All happiness it traces up to the 
Father, as the sole source ; and the mind, which these 
views have penetrated, through this intimate association 
of every thing exciting and exalting in the universe with 
One Infinite Parent, can and does offer itself up to 
him with the intensest and profoundest love, of which 
human nature is susceptible. The Trinitarian indeed 
professes to believe in one God, and means to hold 
fast this truth. But three persons, having distinctive 
qualities and relations, of whom one is sent and another 
the sender, one is given and another the giver, of whom 
one intercedes and another hears the intercession, of 
whom one takes flesh and another never becomes incar- 
nate, — three persons, thus discriminated, are as truly 
three objects of the mind, as if they were acknowledged 
to be separate divinities ; and, from the principles of 
our nature, they cannot act on the mind as deeply and 
powerfully as one Infinite Person, to whose sole good- 
ness all happiness is ascribed. To multiply infinite 
objects for the heart, is to distract it. To scatter the 
attention among three equal persons, is to impair the 
power of each. The more strict and absolute the 
unity of God, the more easily and intimately all the 
impressions and emotions of piety flow together, and 
are condensed into one glowing thought, one thrilling 
love. No language can express the absorbing energy 



234 UNITARIAN CHRISTIANITY 

of the thought of one Infinite Father. "When vitally 
implanted in the soul, it grows and gains strength foi 
ever. It enriches itself by every new view of God's 
word and works ; gathers tribute from all regions and 
all ages ; and attracts into itself all the rays of beauty, 
glory, and joy, in the material and spiritual creation. 

My hearers, as you would feel the full influence of 
God upon your souls, guard sacredly, keep unobscured 
and unsullied, that fundamental and glorious truth, that 
there is One, and only One Almighty Agent in the 
universe, one Infinite Father. Let this truth dwell in 
me in its uncorrupted simplicity, and I have the spring 
and nutriment of an ever-growing piety. I have an 
object for my mind towards which all things bear me. 
I know whither to go in all trial, whom to bless in all 
joy, whom to adore in all I behold. But let three per- 
sons claim from me supreme homage, and claim it on 
different grounds, one for sending and another for com- 
ing to my relief, and I am divided, distracted, perplexed. 
My frail intellect is overborne. Instead of One Father, 
on whose arm I can rest, my mind is torn from object 
to object, and I tremble, lest among so many claimants 
of supreme love, I should withhold from one or another 
his due. 

II. Unitarianism is the system most favorable to pie- 
ty, because it holds forth and preserves inviolate the 
spirituality of God. u God is a spirit, and they that 
worship him must worship him in spirit and in truth." 
It is of great importance to the progress and elevation 
of the religious principle, that we should refine more 
and more our conceptions of God ; that we should sep- 
arate from him all material properties, and whatever is 
limited or imperfect in our own nature ; that we should 



MOST FAVORABLE TO PIETY. 235 

regard him as a pure intelligence, an unmixed and infinite 
Mind. When it pleased God to select the Jewish peo- 
ple and place them under miraculous interpositions, one 
of the first precepts given them was, that they should 
not represent God under any bodily form, any graven 
image, or the likeness of any creature. Next came 
Christianity, which had this as one of its great objects, 
to render religion still more spiritual, by abolishing the 
ceremonial and outward worship of former times, and 
by discarding those grosser modes of describing God, 
through which the ancient prophets had sought to impress 
an unrefined people. 

Now, Unitarianism concurs with this sublime moral 
purpose of God. It asserts his spirituality. It ap- 
proaches him under no bodily form, but as a pure spirit, 
as the infinite and the universal Mind. On the other 
hand, it is the direct influence of Trinitarianism to ma- 
terialize men's conceptions of God ; and, in truth, this 
system is a relapse into the error of the rudest and earli- 
est ages, into the worship of a corporeal God. Its 
leading feature is, the doctrine of a God clothed with a 
body, and acting and speaking through a material frame, 
— of the Infinite Divinity dying on a cross ; a doctrine, 
which in earthliness reminds us of the mythology of the 
rudest pagans, and which a pious Jew, in the twilight of 
the Mosaic religion, would have shrunk from with horror. 
It seems to me no small objection to the Trinity, that it 
supposes God to take a body in the later and more im- 
proved ages of the world, when it is plain, that such a 
manifestation, if needed at all, was peculiarly required 
in the infancy of the race. The effect of such a system 
m debasing the idea of God, in associating with the 
Divinity human passions and infirmities, is too obvious 
15* 



236 UNITARIAN CHRISTIANITY 

to need much elucidation. On the supposition that the 
second person of the Trinity became incarnate, God 
may be said to be a material being, on the same general 
ground, on which this is affirmed of man ; for man is 
material only by the union of the mind with the body ; 
and the very meaning of incarnation is, that God took a 
body, through which he acted and spoke, as the human 
soul operates through its corporeal organs. Every bodily 
afFection may thus be ascribed to God. Accordingly 
the Trinitarian, in his most solemn act of adoration, is 
heard to pray in these appalling words : " Good Lord, 
deliver us ; by the mystery of thy holy incarnation, by 
thy holy nativity and circumcision, by thy baptism, fast- 
ing, and temptation, by thine agony and bloody sweat, 
by thy cross and passion, good Lord, deliver us." Now 
I ask you to judge, from the principles of human nature, 
whether to worshippers, who adore their God for his 
wounds and tears, his agony, and blood, and sweat, the 
ideas of corporeal existence and human suffering will 
not predominate over the conceptions of a purely spir- 
itual essence ; whether the mind, in clinging to the man, 
will not lose the God ; whether a surer method for de- 
pressing and adulterating the pure thought of the Divinity 
could have been devised. That the Trinitarian is un- 
conscious of this influence of his faith, I know, nor do 
I charge it on him as a crime. Still it exists, and can- 
not be too much deplored. 

The Roman Catholics, true to human nature and 
their creed, have sought, by painting and statuary, to 
6ring their imagined God before their eyes ; and have 
thus obtained almost as vivid impressions of him, as if 
they had lived with him on the earth. The Protestant 
condemns them for using these similitudes and represen- 



MOST FAVORABLE TO PIETY. 237 

tations in their worship ; but, if a Trinitarian, he does so 
to his own condemnation. For if, as he believes, it was 
once a duty to bow in adoration before the living body 
of his incarnate God, what possible guilt can there be in 
worshipping before the pictured or sculptured memorial 
of the same being ? Christ's body may as truly be rep- 
resented by the artist, as any other human form ; and its 
image may be used as effectually and properly, as that 
of an ancient sage or hero, to recall him with vividness 
to the mind. — Is it said, that God has expressly forbid- 
den the use of images in our worship ? But why was 
that prohibition laid on the Jews? For this express 
reason, that God had not presented himself to them in 
any form, which admitted of representation. Hear the 
language of Moses : " Take good heed lest ye make 
you a graven image, for ye saw no manner of similitude 
on the day that the Lord spake unto you in Horeb out 
of the midst of the fire."* If, since that period, God 
has taken a body, then the reason of the prohibition has 
ceased ; and if he took a body, among other purposes, 
that he might assist the weakness of the intellect, which 
needs a material form, then a statue, which lends so 
great an aid to the conception of an absent friend, is not 
only justified, but seems to be required. 

This materializing and embodying of the Supreme 
Being, which is the essence of Trinitarianism, cannot 
but be adverse to a growing and exalted piety. Human 
and divine properties, being confounded in one being, 
lose their distinctness. The splendors of the Godhead 
are dimmed. The worshippers of an incarnate Deity, 
through the frailty of their nature, are strongly tempted 

* Deut. iv. 15, 16. — The arrangement of the text is a little changed, to 
put the reader immediately in possession of the meaning. 



238 UNITARIAN CHRISTIANITY 

to fasten chiefly on his human attributes ; and their devc* 
tion, instead of rising to the Infinite God, and taking the 
peculiar character which infinity inspires, becomes rather 
a human affection, borrowing much of its fervor from the 
ideas of suffering, blood, and death. It is indeed possi- 
ble, that this God-man (to use the strange phraseology 
of Trinitarians) may excite the mind more easily, than a 
purely spiritual divinity ; just as a tragedy, addressed to 
the eye and ear, will interest the multitude more than the 
contemplation of the most exalted character. But the 
emotions, which are the most easily roused, are not the 
profoundest or most enduring. This human love, in- 
spired by a human God, though at first more fervid, 
cannot grow and spread through the soul, like the rever- 
ential attachment, which an infinite, spiritual Father 
awakens. Refined conceptions of God, though more 
slowly attained, have a more quickening and all-pervading 
energy, and admit of perpetual accessions of brightness, 
life, and strength. 

True, we shall be told, that Trinitarianism has con- 
verted only one of its three persons into a human Deity, 
and that the other two remain purely spiritual beings. 
But who does not know, that man will attach himself 
most strongly to the God who has become a man ? Is 
not this even a duty, if the Divinity has taken a body to 
place himself within the reach of human comprehension 
and sympathy ? That the Trinitarian's views of the 
Divinity will be colored more by his visible, tangible, 
corporeal God, than by those persons of the Trinity, 
who remain comparatively hidden in their invisible and 
spiritual essence, is so accordant with the principles of 
our nature, as to need no labored proof. 

My friends, hold fast the doctrine of a purely spiritual. 



MOST FAVORABLE TO PIETY. 239 

Divinity. It is one of the great supports and instruments 
of a vital piety. It brings God near, as no other doc- 
trine can. One of the leading purposes of Christianity 
is, to give us an ever-growing sense of God's immediate 
presence, a consciousness of him in our souls. Now, 
just as far as corporeal or limited attributes enter into 
our conception of him, we remove him from us. He 
becomes an outward, distant being, instead of being 
viewed and felt as dwelling in the soul itself. It is an 
unspeakable benefit of the doctrine of a purely spiritual 
God, that he can be regarded as inhabiting, filling our 
spiritual nature ; and, through this union with our minds, 
he can and does become the object of an intimacy and 
friendship, such as no embodied being can call forth. 

III. Unitarianism is the system most favorable to 
piety, because it presents a distinct and intelligible object 
of worship, a being, whose nature, whilst inexpressibly 
sublime, is yet simple and suited to human apprehension. 
An infinite Father is the most exalted of all conceptions, 
and yet the least perplexing. It involves no incongru- 
ous ideas. It is illustrated by analogies from our own 
nature. It coincides with that fundamental law of the 
intellect, through which we demand a cause proportioned 
to effects. It is also as interesting as it is rational ; so 
that it is peculiarly congenial with the improved mind, 
The sublime simplicity of God, as he is taught in Uni- 
tarianism, by relieving the understanding from perplexity, 
and by placing him within the reach of thought and af- 
fection, gives him peculiar power over the soul. Trini- 
tarianism, on the other hand, is a riddle. Men call it a 
mystery ; but it is mysterious, not like the great truths 
of religion, by its vastness and grandeur, but by the 
irreconcilable ideas which it involves. One God, con- 



240 UNITARIAN CHRISTIANITY 

sisting of three persons or agents, is so strange a bang, 
so unlike our own minds, and all others with which we 
hold intercourse, is so misty, so incongruous, so contra- 
dictory, that he cannot be apprehended with that dis- 
tinctness and that feeling of reality, which belong to the 
opposite system. Such a heterogeneous being, who is 
at the same moment one and many ; who includes in his 
own nature the relations of Father and Son, or, in other 
words, is Father and Son to himself; who, in one of 
his persons, is at the same moment the Supreme God 
and a mortal man, omniscient and ignorant, almighty and 
impotent ; such a being is certainly the most puzzling 
and distracting object ever presented to human thought. 
Trinitarianism, instead of teaching an intelligible God, 
offers to the mind a strange compound of hostile attri- 
butes, bearing plain marks of those ages of darkness, 
when Christianity shed but a faint ray, and the diseased 
fancy teemed with prodigies and unnatural creations. In 
contemplating a being, who presents such different and 
inconsistent aspects, the mind finds nothing to rest upon ; 
and, instead of receiving distinct and harmonious im- 
pressions, is disturbed by shifting, unsettled images. 
To commune with such a being must be as hard, as to 
converse with a man of three different countenances, 
speaking with three different tongues. The believer in 
this system must forget it, when he prays, or he could 
find no repose in devotion. Who can compare it, in 
distinctness, reality, and power, with the simple doctrine 
of One Infinite Father ? 

IV. Unitarianism promotes a fervent and enlightened 
piety, by asserting the absolute and unbounded perfec- 
tion of God's character. This is the highest service 
which can be rendered to mankind. Just and generous 



MOST FAVORABLE TO PIETY 241 

conceptions of the Divinity are the soul's true wealth. 
To spread these is to contribute more effectually, than 
by any other agency, to the progress and happiness of 
the intelligent creation. To obscure God's glory is 
to do greater wrong, than to blot out the sun. The 
character and influence of a religion must answer to 
the views which it gives of the Divinity ; and there is 
a plain tendency in that system, which manifests the 
divine perfections most resplendently, to awaken the 
sublimest and most blessed piety. 

Now, Trinitarianism has a fatal tendency to degrade 
the character of the Supreme Being, though its advo- 
cates, I am sure, intend no such wrong. By multiply- 
ing divine persons, it takes from each the glory of 
independent, all-sufficient, absolute perfection. This 
may be shown in various particulars. And in the first 
place, the very idea, that three persons in the Divinity 
are in any degree important, implies and involves the 
imperfection of each ; for it is plain, that if one divine 
person possesses all possible power, wisdom, love, and 
happiness, nothing will be gained to himself or to the 
creation by joining with hirn two, or two hundred other 
persons. To say that he needs others for any purpose 
or in any degree, is to strip him of independent and all- 
sufficient majesty. If our Father in heaven, the God 
and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, is not of himself 
sufficient to all the wants of his creation ; if, by his 
union with other persons, he can accomplish any good 
to which he is not of himself equal ; or if he thus ac- 
quires a claim to the least degree of trust or hope, to 
which he is not of himself entitled by his own indepen- 
dent attributes ; then it is plain, he is not a being of 
infinite and absolute perfection. Now Trinitarianism 
u 



242 UNITARIAN CHRISTIANITY 

teaches, that the highest good accrues to the human 
race from the existence of three divine persons, sus- 
taining different offices and relations to the world ; and 
it regards the Unitarian, as subverting the foundation 
of human hope, by asserting that the God and Father 
of our Lord Jesus is alone and singly God. Thus it 
derogates from his infinite glory. 

In the next place, Trinitarianism degrades the char- 
acter of the Supreme Being, by laying its disciples 
under the necessity of making such a distribution of 
offices and relations among the three persons, as will 
serve to designate and distinguish them ; for in this way 
it interferes with the sublime conceptions of One Infi- 
nite Person, in whom all glories are concentred. If we 
are required to worship three persons, we must view 
them in different lights, or they will be mere repetitions 
of each other, mere names and sounds, presenting no 
objects, conveying no meaning to the mind. Some 
appropriate character, some peculiar acts, feelings, and 
relations must be ascribed to each. In other words, 
the glory of all must be shorn, that some special dis- 
tinguishing lustre may be thrown on each. Accord- 
ingly, creation is associated peculiarly with the con- 
ception of the Father ; satisfaction for human guilt wilh 
that of the Son ; whilst sanctification, the noblest work 
of all, is given to the Holy Spirit as his more particu- 
lar work. By a still more fatal distribution, the work 
of justice, the office of vindicating the rights of the 
Divinity, falls peculiarly to the Father, whilst the love- 
liness of interposing mercy clothes peculiarly the person 
of the Son. By this unhappy influence of Trinitarian- 
ism, from which common minds at least cannot escape, 
the splendors of the Godhead, being scattered among 



MOST FAVORABLE TO PIETY. 243 

three objects, instead of being united in One Infinite 
Father, are dimmed ; and he, whose mind is thoroughly 
and practically possessed by this system, can hardly 
conceive the effulgence of glory in which the One God 
offers himself to a pious believer in his strict unity. 

But the worst, has not been told. I observe, then, 
in the third place, that if Three Divine Persons are 
believed in, such an administration or government of 
the world must be ascribed to them, as will furnish 
them with a sphere of operation. No man will admit 
three persons into his creed, without finding a use for 
them. Now it is an obvious remark, that a system of 
the universe, which involves and demands more than 
one Infinite Agent, must be wild, extravagant, and un- 
worthy the perfect God ; because there is no possible 
or conceivable good, to which such an Agent is not 
adequate. Accordingly we find Trinitarianism connect- 
ing itself with a scheme of administration, exceedingly 
derogatory to the Divine character. It teaches, that 
the Infinite Father saw fit to put into the hands of our 
first parents the character and condition of their whole 
progeny ; and that, through one act of disobedience, 
the whole race bring with them into being a corrupt 
nature, or are born depraved. It teaches, that the 
offences of a short life, though begun and spent under 
this disastrous influence, merit endless punishment, and 
that God's law threatens this infinite penalty ; and that 
man is thus burdened with a guilt, which no sufferings 
of the created universe can expiate, which nothing but 
the sufferings of an Infinite Being can purge away. 
In this condition of human nature, Trinitarianism finds 
a sphere of action for its different persons. I am aware 
that some Trinitarians, on hearing this statement of their 

16 



244 UNITARIAN CHUISTIANTTY 

system, may reproach me with ascribing to them the 
errors of Calvinism, a system which they abhor as much 
as ourselves. But none of the peculiarities of Calvin- 
ism enter into this exposition. I have given what I 
understand to be the leading features of Trinitarianism 
all the world over ; and the benevolent professors of 
that faith, who recoil from this statement, must blame 
not the preacher, but the creeds and establishments by 
which these doctrines are diffused. For ourselves, we 
look with horror and grief on the views of God's gov- 
ernment, which are naturally and intimately united with 
Trinitarianism. They take from us our Father in heav- 
en, and substitute a stern and unjust lord. Our filial 
love and reverence rise up against them. We say to 
the Trinitarian, touch any thing but the perfections of 
God. Cast no stain on that spotless purity and love- 
liness. We can endure any errors but those, which 
subvert or unsettle the conviction of God's paternal 
goodness. Urge not upon us a system, which makes 
existence a curse, and wraps the universe in gloom. 
Leave us the cheerful light, the free and healthful at- 
mosphere, of a liberal and rational faith ; the ennobling 
and consoling influences of the doctrine, which nature 
and revelation in blessed concord teach us, of One 
Father of unbounded and inexhaustible love. 

V. Unitarianism is peculiarly favorable to piety, be- 
cause it accords with nature, with the world around and 
the world within us ; and through this accordance it 
gives aid to nature, and receives aid from it, in impress- 
ing the mind with God. We live in the midst of a 
glorious universe, which was meant to be a witness and 
a preacher of the Divinity ; and a revelation from God 
may be expected to be in harmony with this system, 



MOST FAVORABLE TO PIETY. 245 

and to carry on a common ministry with it in lifting the 
soul to God. Now, Unitarianism is in accordance with 
nature. It teaches One Father, and so does creation, 
the more it is explored. Philosophy, in proportion as 
it extends its views of the universe, sees in it, more 
and more, a sublime and beautiful unity, and multiplies 
proofs, that all things have sprung from one intelligence, 
one power, one love. The whole outward creation 
proclaims to the Unitarian the truth in which he delights. 
So does his own soul. But neither nature nor the soul 
bears one trace of Three Divine Persons. Nature is no 
Trinitarian. It gives not a hint, not a glimpse of a tri- 
personal author. Trinitarianism is a confined system, 
shut up in a few texts, a few written lines, where many 
of the wisest minds have failed to discover it. It is 
not inscribed on the heavens and the earth, not borne 
on every wind, not resounding and reechoing through 
the universe. The sun and stars say nothing of a God 
of three persons. They all speak of the One Father 
whom we adore. To our ears, one and the same voice 
comes from God's word and works, a full and swelling 
strain, growing clearer, louder, more thrilling as we 
listen, and with one blessed influence lifting up our souls 
to the Almighty Father. 

This accordance between nature and revelation in- 
creases the power of both over the mind. Concurring 
as they do in one impression, they make that impres- 
sion deeper. To men of reflection, the conviction of 
the reality of religion is exceedingly heightened, by a 
perception of harmony in the views of it which they 
derive from various sources. Revelation is never re- 
ceived with so intimate a persuasion of its truth, as 
when it is seen to conspire to the same ends and im- 
u* 



246 UNITARIAN CHRISTIANITY 

pressions, for which all other things are made. It is 
no small objection to Trinitarianism, that it is an in- 
sulated doctrine, that it reveals a God whom we meet 
nowhere in the universe. Three Divine Persons, I re- 
peat it, are found only in a few texts, and those so dark, 
that the gifted minds of Milton, Newton, and Locke, 
could not find them there. Nature gives them not a 
whisper of evidence. And can they be as real and 
powerful to the mind, as that One Father, whom the 
general strain and common voice of Scripture, and the 
universal voice of nature call us to adore ? 

VI. Unitarianism favors piety by opening the mind 
to new and ever-enlarging views of God. Teaching, as 
it does, the same God with nature, it leads us to seek 
him in nature. It does not shut us up in the written 
word, precious as that manifestation of the Divinity is. 
It considers revelation, not as independent of his other 
means of instruction ; not as a separate agent ; but as 
a part of the great system of God for enlightening and 
elevating the human soul ; as intimately joined with 
creation and providence, and intended to concur with 
them ; and as given to assist us in reading the volume 
of the universe. Thus Unitarianism, where its genuine 
influence is experienced, tends to enrich and fertilize 
the mind ; opens it to new lights, wherever they spring 
up ; and, by combining, makes more efficient, the means 
of religious knowledge. Trinitarianism, on the other 
hand, is a system which tends to confine the mind ; to 
shut it up in what is written ; to diminish its interest 
in the universe ; and to disincline it to bright and 
enlarged views of God's works. — This effect will be 
explained, in the first place, if we consider, that the 
peculiarities of Trinitarianism differ so much from the 



MOST FAVORABLE TO PIETY. 247 

teachings of the universe, that he who attaches him- 
self to the one, will be in danger of losing his interest 
in the other. The ideas of Three Divine Persons, of 
God clothing himself in flesh, of the infinite Creator 
saving the guilty by transferring their punishment to 
an innocent being, these ideas cannot easily be made 
to coalesce in the mind with that which nature gives, 
of One Almighty Father and Unbounded Spirit, whom 
no worlds can contain, and whose vicegerent in the 
human breast pronounces it a crime, to lay the penal- 
ties of vice on the pure and unoffending. 

But Trinitarianism has a still more positive influence 
in shutting the mind against improving views from the 
universe. It tends to throw gloom over God's works. 
Imagining that Christ is to be exalted, by giving him 
an exclusive agency in enlightening and recovering man- 
kind, it is tempted to disparage other lights and influ- 
ences ; and, for the purpose of magnifying his salvation, 
it inclines to exaggerate the darkness and desperateness 
of man's present condition. The mind thus impressed, 
naturally leans to those views of nature and of society, 
which will strengthen the ideas of desolation and guilt. 
It is tempted to aggravate the miseries of life, and to 
see in them only the marks of divine displeasure and 
punishing justice ; and overlooks their obvious fitness 
and design to awaken our powers, exercise our virtues, 
and strengthen our social ties. In like manner, it ex- 
aggerates the sins of men, that the need of an Infinite 
atonement may be maintained. Some of the most af- 
fecting tokens of God's love within and around us are 
obscured by this gloomy theology. The glorious fac- 
ulties of the soul, its high aspirations, its sensibility to 
the great and good in character, its sympathy with dis- 
16* 



248 UNITARIAN CHRISTIANITY 

interested and suffering virtue, its benevolent and reli- 
gious instincts, its thirst for a happiness not found on 
earth, these are overlooked or thrown into the shade, 
that they may not disturb the persuasion of man's nat- 
ural corruption. Ingenuity is employed to disparage 
what is interesting in the human character. Whilst the 
bursts of passion in the newborn child are gravely 
urged as indications of a native, rooted corruption ; its 
bursts of affection, its sweet smile, its innocent and 
irrepressible joy, its loveliness and beauty, are not lis- 
tened to, though they plead more eloquently its alliance 
with higher natures. The sacred and tender affections 
of home ; the unwearied watchings and cheerful sac- 
rifices of parents ; the reverential, grateful assiduity of 
children, smoothing an aged father's or mother's descent 
to the grave ; woman's love, stronger than death ; the 
friendship of brothers and sisters ; the anxious affec- 
tion, which tends around the bed of sickness ; the sub- 
dued voice, which breathes comfort into the mourner's 
heart ; all the endearing offices, w T bich shed a serene 
light through our dwellings ; these are explained away 
by the thorough advocates of this system, so as to in- 
clude no real virtue, so as to consist with a natural 
aversion to goodness. Even the higher efforts of dis- 
interested benevolence, and the most unaffected expres- 
sions of piety, if not connected with what is called 
" the true faith," are, by the most rigid disciples of the 
doctrine which I oppose, resolved into the passion for 
distinction, or some other working of " unsanctified na- 
ture." Thus, Trinitarianism and its kindred doctrines 
have a tendency to veil God's goodness, to sully his 
fairest works, to dim the. lustre of those innocent and 
pure affections, which a divine breath kindles in the 



MOST FAVORABLE TO PIETY. 249 

eoul, to blight the beauty and freshness of creation, and 
in this way to consume the very nutriment of piety. 
We know, and rejoice to know, that in multitudes this 
tendency is counteracted by a cheerful temperament, a 
benevolent nature, and a strength of gratitude, which 
bursts the shackles of a melancholy system. But from 
the nature of the doctrine, the tendency exists and is 
strong ; and an impartial observer will often discern it 
resulting in gloomy, depressing views of life and the 
universe. 

Trinitarianism, by thus tending to exclude bright 
and enlarged views of the creation, seems to me not 
only to chill the heart, but to injure the understanding, 
as far as moral and religious truth is concerned. It 
does not send the mind far and wide for new and ele- 
vating objects ; and we have here one explanation of 
the barrenness and feebleness, by which theological 
writings are so generally marked. It is not wonderful, 
that the prevalent theology should want vitality and en- 
largement of thought, for it does not accord with the 
perfections of God and the spirit of the universe. It 
has not its root in eternal truth ; but is a narrow, tech- 
nical, artificial system, the fabrication of unrefined ages, 
and consequently incapable of being blended with the 
new lights which are spreading over the most interest- 
ing subjects, and of being incorporated with the results 
and anticipations of original and progressive minds. It 
stands apart in the mind, instead of seizing upon new 
truths, and converting them into its own nutriment= 
With few exceptions, the Trinitarian theology of the 
present day is greatly deficient in freshness of thought, 
and in power to awaken the interest and to meet the 
intellectual and spiritual wants of thinking men. I see 



250 UNITARIAN CHRISTIANITY 

indeed superior minds and great minds among the ad- 
herents of the prevalent system ; but they seem to me 
to move in chains, and to fulfil poorly their high func- 
tion of adding to the wealth of the human intellect. In 
theological discussion, they remind me more of Samson 
grinding in the narrow mill of the Philistines, than of 
that undaunted champion achieving victories for God's 
people, and enlarging the bounds of their inheritance. 
Now, a system which has a tendency to confine the 
mind, and to impair its sensibility to the manifestations 
of God in the universe, is so far unfriendly to piety, to 
a bright, joyous, hopeful, evergrowing love of the Cre- 
ator. It tends to generate and nourish a religion of a 
melancholy tone, such, I apprehend, as now predomi- 
nates in the Christian world. 

VII. Unitarianism promotes piety, by the high place 
which it assigns to piety in the character and work of 
Jesus Christ. What is it which the Unitarian regards 
as the chief glory of the character of Christ ? I an- 
swer, his filial devotion, the entireness with which he 
surrendered himself to the will and benevolent purposes 
of God. The piety of Jesus, which, on the supposition 
of his Supreme Divinity, is a subordinate and incongru- 
ous, is, to us, his prominent and crowning, attribute. 
We place his " oneness with God," not in an unintelli- 
gible unity of essence, but in unity of mind and heart, 
in the strength of his love, through which he renounced 
every separate interest, and identified himself with his 
Father's designs. In other words, filial piety, the con- 
secration of his whole being to the benevolent will of 
his Father, this is the mild glory in which he always 
offers himself to our minds ; and, of consequence, all 
our sympathies with him, all our love and veneration 



MOST FAVORABLE TO PIETY. 251 

towards him, are so many forms of delight in a pious 
character, and our whole knowledge of him incites us 
to a like surrender of our whole nature and existence 
to God. 

In the next place, Unitarianism teaches, that the 
highest work or office of Christ is, to call forth and 
strengthen piety in the human breast ; and thus it sets 
before us this character as the chief acquisition and end 
of our being. To us, the great glory of Christ's mis- 
sion consists in the power with which he " reveals the 
Father," and establishes the "kingdom or reign of God 
within " the soul. By the crown which he wears, we 
understand the eminence which he enjoys in the most 
beneficent work in the universe, that of bringing back 
the lost mind to the knowledge, love, and likeness of its 
Creator. With these views of Christ's office, nothing 
can seem to us so important as an enlightened and pro- 
found piety, and we are quickened to seek it, as the 
perfection and happiness to which nature and redemp- 
tion jointly summon us. 

Now we maintain, that Trinitarianism obscures and 
weakens these views of Christ's character and work ; 
and this it does, by insisting perpetually on others of 
an incongruous, discordant nature. It diminishes the 
power of his piety. Making him, as it does, the Su- 
preme Being, and placing him as an equal on his Fa- 
ther's throne, it turns the mind from him as the meekest 
worshipper of God ; throws into the shade, as of very 
inferior worth, his self-denying obedience ; and gives 
us other grounds for revering him, than his entire hom- 
age, his fervent love, his cheerful self-sacrifice to the 
Universal Parent. There is a plain incongruity in the 
belief of his Supreme Godhead with the ideas of filial 



252 UXITABIAN CHRISTIANITY 

piety and exemplary devotion. The mind, which has 

been taught to regard him as of equal majesty and 
authority with the Father, cannot easily feel the power 
of his character as the affectionate son, whose meat it 
was to do his Father's will. The mind, accustomed to 
make him the ultimate object of worship, cannot easily 
recognise in him the pattern of that worship, the guide 
to the Most High. The characters are incongruous, 
and their union perplexing, so that neither exerts its full 
energy on the mind. 

Trinitarianism also exhibits the work as well as charac- 
ter of Christ, in lights less favorable to piety. It doe? 
not make the promotion of piety his chief end. It 
teaches, that the highest purpose of his mission was 
to reconcile God to man, not man to God. It teaches, 
that the most formidable obstacle to human happiness 
lies in the claims and threatenings of divine justice. 
Hence, it leads men to prize Christ more for answering 
these claims and averting these threatenings, than for 
awakening in the human soul sentiments of love towards 
its Father in heaven. Accordingly, multitudes seem 
to prize pardon more than piety, and think it a greater 
boon to escape, through Christ's sufferings, the fire of 
hell, than to receive, through his influence, the spirit 
of heaven, the spirit of devotion. Is such a system 
propitious to a generous and ever-growing piety ? 

If I may be allowed a short digression, I would con- 
clude this head with the general observation, that we 
deem our views of Jesus Christ more interesting than 
those of Trinitarianism. We feel that we should lose 
much, by exchanging the distinct character and mild 
radiance with which he offers himself to our minds, for 
the confused and irreconcilable glories with which that 



MOST FAVORABLE TO PIETY. 253 

system labors to invest him. According to Unitarian- 
ism, he is a being who may be understood, for he is 
one mind, one conscious nature. According to the op- 
posite faith, he is an inconceivable compound of two 
most dissimilar minds, joining in one person a finite 
and infinite nature, a soul weak and ignorant, and a 
soul almighty and omniscient. And is such a being a 
proper object for human thought and affection ? — I add, 
as another important consideration, that to us Jesus, 
instead of being the second of three obscure unintel- 
ligible persons, is first and preeminent in the sphere 
in which he acts, and is thus the object of a distinct 
attachment, which he shares with no equals or rivals. 
To us, he is first of the sons of God, the Son by pe- 
culiar nearness and likeness to the Father. He is first 
of all the ministers of God's mercy and beneficence, 
and through him the largest stream of bounty flows to 
the creation. He is first in God's favor and love, the 
most accepted of worshippers, the most prevalent of 
intercessors. In this mighty universe, framed to be b 
mirror of its Author, we turn to Jesus as the brightest 
image of God, and gratefully yield him a place in our 
souls, second only to the Infinite Father, to whom he 
himself directs our supreme affection. 

VIII. I now proceed to a great topic. Unitarianism 
promotes piety, by meeting the wants of man as a sin- 
ner. The wants of the sinner may be expressed almost 
in one word. He wants assurances of mercy in his 
Creator. He wants pledges, that God is Love in its 
purest form, that is, that He has a goodness so dis- 
interested, free, full, strong, and immutable, that the 
ingratitude and disobedience of his creatures cannot 
overcome it. This unconquerable love, which in Scrip- 
v 



254 UNITARIAN CHRISTIANITY 

ture is denominated grace, and which waits not fof 
merit to call it forth, but flows out to the most guilty, 
is the sinner's only hope, and it is fitted to call forth 
the most devoted gratitude. Now, this grace or mercy 
of God, which seeks the lost, and receives and blesses 
the returning child, is proclaimed by that faith which 
we advocate, with a clearness and energy, which cannot 
be surpassed. Unitarianism will not listen for a mo- 
ment to the common errors, by which this bright attri- 
bute is obscured. It will not hear of a vindictive wrath 
in God, which must be quenched by blood ; or of a jus- 
tice, which binds his mercy with an iron chain, until its 
demands are satisfied to the full. It will not hear that 
God needs any foreign influence to awaken his mercy ; 
but teaches, that the yearnings of the tenderest human 
parent towards a lost child, are but a faint image of 
God's deep and overflowing compassion towards erring 
man. This essential and unchangeable propensity of 
the Divine Mind to forgiveness, the Unitarian beholds 
shining forth through the whole Word of God, and 
especially in the mission and revelation of Jesus Christ, 
who lived and died to make manifest the inexhaustible 
plenitude of divine grace ; and, aided by revelation, 
he sees this attribute of God everywhere, both around 
him and within him. He sees it in the sun which shines, 
and the rain which descends on the evil and unthankful ; 
in the peace, which returns to the mind in proportion 
to its return to God and duty ; in the sentiment of com- 
passion, which springs up spontaneously in the human 
breast towards the fallen and lost ; and in the moral in- 
stinct, which teaches us to cherish this compassion as 
a sacred principle, as an emanation of God's infinite 
love. In truth, Unitarianism asserts so strongly the 



MOST FAVORABLE TO PIETY. 255 

mercy of God, that the reproach thrown upon it is, that 
it takes from the sinner the dread of punishment, — a 
reproach wholly without foundation ; for our system 
.eaches that God's mercy is not an instinctive tender- 
ness, which cannot inflict pain ; but an all-wise love, 
which desires the true and lasting good of its object, 
and consequently desires first for the sinner that restora- 
tion to purity, without which, shame, and suffering, and 
exile from God and heaven are of necessity and unal- 
terably his doom. Thus Unitarianism holds forth God's 
grace and forgiving goodness most resplendently ; and, 
by this manifestation of him, it tends to awaken a 
tender and confiding piety ; an ingenuous love, which 
mourns that it has offended ; an ingenuous aversion to 
sin, not because sin brings punishment, but because it 
separates the mind from this merciful Father. 

Now we object to Trinitarianism, that it obscures 
the mercy of God. It does so in various ways. We 
have already seen, that it gives such views of God's 
government, that we can hardly conceive of this attri- 
bute as entering into his character. Mercy to the sin- 
ner is the principle of love or benevolence in its high- 
est form ; and surely this cannot be expected from a 
being who brings us into existence burdened with he- 
reditary guilt, and who threatens with endless punish- 
ment and woe the heirs of so frail and feeble a nature. 
With such a Creator, the idea of mercy cannot coa- 
lesce ; and I will say more, that, under such a govern- 
ment, man would need no mercy ; for he would owe no 
allegiance to such a maker, and could not of course 
contract the guilt of violating it ; and, without guilt, no 
grace or pardon would be wanted. The severity of this 
system would place him on the ground of an injured 

17 



258 UNITARIAN CHRISTIANITY 

being. The wrong would lie on the side of the Cre- 
ator. 

In the next place, Trinitarianism obscures God's 
mercy, by the manner in which it supposes pardon to 
be communicated. It teaches, that God remits the pun- 
ishment of the offender, in consequence of receiving an 
equivalent from an innocent person ; that the sufferings 
of the sinner are removed by a full satisfaction made 
to divine justice, in the sufferings of a substitute. And 
is this "the quality of mercy" ? What means forgive- 
ness, but the reception of the returning child through 
the strength of parental love ? This doctrine invests 
the Saviour with a claim of merit, with a right to the 
remission of the sins of his followers ; and represents 
God's reception of the penitent as a recompense due 
to the worth of his Son. And is mercy, which means 
free and undeserved love, made more manifest, more 
resplendent, by the introduction of merit and right as 
the ground of our salvation ? Could a surer expedient 
be invented for obscuring its freeness, and for turning 
the sinner's gratitude from the sovereign who demands, 
to the sufferer who offers, full satisfaction for his guilt ? 

I know it is said, that Trinitarianism magnifies God's 
mercy, because it teaches, that he himself provided the 
substitute for the guilty- But I reply, that the work 
here ascribed to mercy is not the most appropriate, nor 
most fitted to manifest it and impress it on the heart. 
This may be made apparent by familiar illustrations. 
Suppose that a creditor, through compassion to certain 
debtors, should persuade a benevolent and opulent man 
to pay him in their stead. Would not the debtors see 
a greater mercy, and feel a weightier obligation, if they 
were to receive a free, gratuitous release ? And will 



MOST FAVORABLE TO PIETY. 257 

not their chief gratitude stray beyond the creditor to 
the benevolent substitute ? Or, suppose that a parent, 
unwilling to inflict a penalty on a disobedient but fee- 
ble child, should persuade a stronger child to bear it. 
Would not the offender see a more touching mercy in a 
free forgiveness, springing immediately from a parent's 
heart, than in this circuitous remission ? And will he 
not be tempted to turn with his strongest love to the 
generous sufferer ? In this process of substitution, of 
which Trinitarianism boasts so loudly, the mercy of 
God becomes complicated with the rights and merits 
of the substitute, and is a more distant cause of our 
salvation. These rights and merits are nearer, more 
visible, and more than divide the glory with grace and 
mercy in our rescue. They turn the mind from Divine 
Goodness, as the only spring of its happiness, and only 
rock of its hope. Now this is to deprive piety of one 
of its chief means of growth and joy. Nothing should 
stand between the soul and God's mercy. Nothing 
should share with mercy the work of our salvation. 
Christ's intercession should ever be regarded as an ap- 
plication to love and mercy, not as a demand of justice, 
not as a claim of merit. I grieve to say, that Christ, 
as now viewed by multitudes, hides the lustre of that 
very attribute which it is his great purpose to display. 
I fear, that, to many, Jesus wears the glory of a more 
winning, tender mercy, than his Father, and that he is 
regarded as the sinner's chief resource. Is this the 
way to invigorate piety ? 

Trinitarians imagine, that there is one view of their 
system peculiarly fitted to give peace and hope to the 
sinner, and consequently to promote gratitude and love. 
It is this. They say, it provides an Infinite substitute 



258 UNITARIAN CHRISTIANITY 

for the sinner, than which nothing can give greater re- 
lief to the burdened conscience. Jesus, being the sec- 
ond person of the Trinity, was able to make infinite 
satisfaction for sin ; and what, they ask, in Unitarian- 
ism, can compare with this ? I have time only for two 
brief replies. And first, this doctrine of an Infinite 
satisfaction, or, as it is improperly called, of an Infinite 
atonement, subverts, instead of building up, hope ; be- 
cause it argues infinite severity in the government which 
requires it. Did I believe, what Trinitarianism teach- 
es, that not the least transgression, not even the first 
sin of the dawning mind of the child, could be remitted 
without an infinite expiation, I should feel myself liv- 
ing under a legislation unspeakably dreadful, under laws 
written, like Draco's, in blood ; and, instead of thank- 
ing the Sovereign for providing an infinite substitute, I 
should shudder at the attributes which render this expe- 
dient necessary. It is commonly said, that an infinite 
atonement is needed to make due and deep impressions 
of the evil of sin. But He who framed all souls, and 
gave them their susceptibilities, ought not to be thought 
so wanting in goodness and wisdom, as to have con- 
stituted a universe, which demands so dreadful and de- 
grading a method of enforcing obedience, as the penal 
sufferings of a God. This doctrine, of an Infinite sub- 
stitute suffering the penalty of sin, to manifest God's 
wrath against sin, and thus to support his government, 
is, I fear, so familiar to us all, that its severe character 
is overlooked. Let me, then, set it before you, in new 
terms, and by a new illustration ; and if, in so doing, I 
may wound the feelings of some who hear me, I beg 
them to believe, that I do it with pain, and from no 
impulse but a desire to serve the cause of truth. — 



MOST FAVORABLE TO PIETY. 259 

Suppose, then, that a teacher should come among you, 
nnd should tell you, that the Creator, in order to par- 
don his own children, had erected a gallows in the cen- 
tre of the universe, and had publicly executed upon it, 
in room of the offenders, an Infinite Being, the partaker 
of his own Supreme Divinity ; suppose him to declare, 
that this execution was appointed, as a most conspicu- 
ous and terrible manifestation of God's justice, and of 
the infinite woe denounced by his law ; and suppose 
him to add, that all beings in heaven and earth are re- 
quired to fix their eyes on this fearful sight, as the most 
powerful enforcement of obedience and virtue. Would 
you not tell him, that he calumniated his Maker ? 
Would you not say to him, that this central gallows 
threw gloom over the universe ; that the spirit of a gov- 
ernment, whose very acts of pardon were written in 
such blood, was terror, not paternal love ; and that the 
obedience which needed to be upheld by this horrid 
spectacle, was nothing worth ? Would you not say to 
him, that even you, in this infancy and imperfection 
of your being, were capable of being wrought upon by 
nobler motives, and of hating sin through more gener- 
ous views ; and that much more the angels, those pure 
flames of love, need not the gallows and an executed 
God to confirm their loyalty ? You would all so feel, 
at such teaching as I have supposed ; and yet how does 
this differ from the popular doctrine of atonement ? 
According to this doctrine, we have an Infinite Being 
sentenced to suffer, as a substitute, the death of the 
cross, a punishment more ignominious and agonizing 
than the gallows, a punishment reserved for slaves and 
the vilest malefactors ; and he suffers this punishment, 
that he may show forth the terrors of God's law, and 
17* 



260 



UNITARIAN CHRISTIANITY 



strike a dread of sin through the universe. — I am in- 
deed aware, that multitudes, who profess this doctrine, 
are not accustomed to bring it to their minds distinctly 
in this light ; that they do not ordinarily regard the 
death of Christ as a criminal execution, as an infinitely 
dreadful infliction of justice, as intended to show, that, 
without an infinite satisfaction, they must hope nothing 
from God. Their minds turn, by a generous instinct, 
from these appalling views, to the love, the disinterest- 
edness, the moral grandeur and beauty of the sufferer } 
and through such thoughts they make the cross a source 
of peace, gratitude, love, and hope ; thus affording a 
delightful exemplification of the power of the human 
mind, to attach itself to what is good and purifying in 
the most irrational system. Not a few may shudder 
at the illustration which I have here given ; but in what 
respects it is unjust to the popular doctrine of atone- 
ment, I cannot discern. I grieve to shock sincere 
Christians, of whatever name ; but I grieve more for 
the corruption of our common faith, which I have now 
felt myself bound to expose. 

I have a second objection to this doctrine of Infinite 
atonement. When examined minutely, and freed from 
ambiguous language, it vanishes into air. It is wholly 
delusion. The Trinitarian tells me, that, according 
to his system, we have an infinite substitute ; that the 
Infinite God was pleased to bear our punishment, and 
consequently, that pardon is made sure. But I ask 
him, Do I understand you ? Do you mean, that the 
Great God, who never changes, whose happiness is the 
same yesterday, to-day, and for ever, that this Eternal 
Being really bore the penalty of my sins, really suffered 
and died ? Every pious man, when pressed by this 



MOST FAVORABLE TO PIETY. 261 

question, answers, No. What, then, does the doctrine 
of Infinite atonement mean ? Why, this ; that God took 
into union with himself our nature, that is, a human 
body and soul ; and these bore the suffering for our sins ; 
and, through his union with these, God may be said to 
have borne it himself. Thus, this vaunted system goes 
out, — in words. The Infinite victim proves to be frail 
man, and God's share in the sacrifice is a mere fiction. 
I ask with solemnity, Can this doctrine give one mo- 
ment's ease to the conscience of an unbiassed, thinking 
man ? Does it not unsettle all hope, by making the 
whole religion suspicious and unsure ? I am compelled 
to say, that I see in it no impression of majesty, or wis- 
dom, or love, nothing worthy of a God ; and when I 
compare it with that nobler faith, which directs our eyes 
and hearts to God's essential mercy, as our only hope, I 
am amazed that any should ascribe to it superior effi- 
cacy, as a religion for sinners, as a means of filling the 
soul with pious trust and love. I know, indeed, that 
some will say, that, in giving up an infinite atonement, I 
deprive myself of all hope of divine favor. To such, 
1 would say, You do wrong to God's mercy. On that 
mercy I cast myself without a fear. I indeed desire 
Christ to intercede for me. I regard his relation to me 
as God's kindest appointment. Through him, "grace 
and truth come " to me from Heaven, and I look for- 
ward to his friendship, as among the highest blessings 
of my whole future being. But I cannot, and dare not 
ask him, to offer an infinite satisfaction for my sins ; to 
appease the wrath of God ; to reconcile the Universal 
Father to his own offspring ; to open to me those arms 
of Divine mercy, which have encircled and borne me 
from the first moment of my being. The essential and 



262 CTNITARIAN CHRISTIANITY 

unbounded mercy of my Creator, is the foundation of 
my hope, and a broader and surer the universe cannot 
give me. 

IX. I now proceed to the last consideration, which 
the limits of this discourse will permit me to urge. It 
has been more than once suggested, but deserves to be 
distinctly stated. I observe, then, that Unitarianisra 
promotes piety, because it is a rational religion. By 
this, I do not mean that its truths can be fully compre- 
hended ; for there is not an object in nature or religion, 
which has not innumerable connexions and relations be- 
yond our grasp of thought. I mean, that its doctrines 
are consistent with one another, and with all established 
truth. Unitarianism is in harmony with the great and 
clear principles of revelation ; with the laws and powers 
of human nature ; with the dictates of the moral sense ; 
with the noblest instincts and highest aspirations of the 
soul ; and with the lights which the universe throws on 
the character of its author. We can hold this doctrine 
without self-contradiction, without rebelling against our 
rational and moral powers, without putting to silence the 
divine monitor in the breast. And this is an unspeaka- 
ble benefit ; for a religion thus coincident with reason, 
conscience, and our whole spiritual being, has the founda- 
tions of universal empire in the breast ; and the heart, 
finding no resistance in the intellect, yields itself wholly, 
cheerfully, without doubts or misgivings, to the love of 
its Creator. 

To Trinitarianism we object, what has always been 
objected to it, that it contradicts and degrades reason, 
and thus exposes the mind to the worst delusions. 
Some of its advocates, more courageous than prudent, 
have even recommended "the prostration of the under- 



MOST FAVORABLE TO PIETY. 263 

standing," as preparatory to its reception. Its chief 
doctrine is an outrage on our rational nature. Its three 
persons who constitute its God, must either be frittered 
away into three unmeaning distinctions, into sounds sig- 
nifying nothing ; or they are three conscious agents, who 
cannot, by any human art or metaphysical device, be 
made to coalesce into one being ; who cannot be really 
viewed as one mind, having one consciousness and one 
will. Now a religious system, the cardinal principle of 
which offends the understanding, very naturally conforms 
itself throughout to this prominent feature, and becomes 
prevalently irrational. He who is compelled to defend 
his faith in an) narticular, by the plea, that human reason 
is so depraved through the fall, as to be an inadequate 
judge of religion, and that God is honored by our recep- 
tion of what shocks the intellect, seems to have no de- 
fence left against accumulated absurdities. According 
to these principles, the fanatic who exclaimed, u I be- 
lieve, because it is impossible," had a fair title to can- 
onization. Reason is too godlike a faculty, to be insulted 
with impunity. Accordingly, Trinitarianism, as we have 
seen, links itself with several degrading errors ; and its 
most natural alliance is with Calvinism, that cruel faith, 
which, stripping God of mercy and man of power, has 
made Christianity an instrument of torture to the timid, 
and an object of doubt or scorn to hardier spirits. I 
repeat it, a doctrine which violates reason like the Trini- 
ty, prepares its advocates, in proportion as it is incorpo- 
rated into the mind, for worse and worse delusions. It 
breaks down the distinctions and barriers between truth 
md falsehood. It creates a diseased taste for prodigies, 
fiction's, and exaggerations, for startling mysteries, and 
wild dreams of enthusiasm. It destroys the relish for 



264: UNITARIAN CHRISTIANITY 

the simple, chaste, serene beauties of truth. Especially 
when the prostration of understanding is taught as an act 
of piety, we cannot wonder, that the grossest supersti- 
tions should be devoured, and that the credulity of the 
multitude should keep pace with the forgeries of im- 
posture and fanaticism. The history of the Church is 
the best comment on the effects of divorcing reason 
from religion ; and if the present age is disburdened of 
many of the superstitions under which Christianity and 
human nature groaned for ages, it owes its relief in no 
small degree to the reinstating of reason in her long- 
violated rights. 

The injury to religion, from irrational doctrines when 
thoroughly believed, is immense. The human soul has 
a unity. Its various faculties are adapted to one another. 
One life pervades it ; and its beauty, strength, and 
growth depend on nothing so much, as on the harmony 
and joint action of all its principles. To wound and 
degrade it in any of its powers, and especially in the 
noble and distinguishing power of reason, is to inflict on 
it universal injury. No notion is more false, than that 
the heart is to thrive by dwarfing the intellect ; that per- 
plexing doctrines are the best food of piety ; that reli- 
gion flourishes most luxuriantly in mist and darkness. 
Reason was given for God as its great object ; and for 
him it should be kept sacred, invigorated, clarified, pro- 
tected from human usurpation, and inspired with a meek 
self-reverence. 

The soul never acts so effectually or joyfully, as when 
all its powers and affections conspire ; as when thought 
and feeling, reason and sensibility, are called forth to- 
gether by one great and kindling object. It will never 
devote itself to God with its whole energy, whilst its 



MOST FAVORABLE TO PIETY. 265 

guiding faculty sees in him a being to shock and con- 
found it. We want a harmony in our inward nature. 
We want a piety, which will join light and fervor, and 
on which the intellectual power will look benignantly. 
We want religion to be so exhibited, that, in the clearest 
moments of the intellect, its signatures of truth will grow 
brighter ; that, instead of tottering, it will gather strength 
and stability from the progress of the human mind. 
These wants we believe to be met by Unitarian Chris- 
tianity, and therefore we prize it as the best friend of 
piety. 

I have thus stated the chief grounds, on which I rest 
the claim of Unitarianism to the honor of promoting an 
enlightened, profound, and happy piety. 

Am I now asked, why we prize our system, and why 
we build churches for its inculcation ? If I may be 
allowed to express myself in the name of conscientious 
Unitarians, who apply their doctrine to their own hearts 
and lives, I would reply thus : We prize and would 
spread our views, because we believe that they reveal 
God to us in greater glory, and bring us nearer to him, 
than any other. We are conscious of a deep want, 
which the creation cannot supply, the want of a Perfect 
Being, on whom the strength of our love may be cen- 
tred, and of an Almighty Father, in whom our weak- 
nesses, imperfections, and sorrows may find resource ; 
and such a Being and Father, Unitarian Christianity sets 
before us. For this we prize it above all price. We 
can part with every other good. We can endure the 
darkening of life's fairest prospects. But this bright, 
consoling doctrine of One God, even the Father, is 
dearer than life, and we cannot let it go. — Through 
w 



266 UNITARIAN CHRISTIANITY 

this faith, every thing grows brighter to our view. Born 
of such a Parent, we esteem our existence an inestima- 
ble gift. We meet everywhere our Father, and his 
presence is as a sun shining on our path. We see him 
in his works, and hear his praise rising from every spot 
which we tread. We feel him near in our solitudes, and 
sometimes enjoy communion with him more tender than 
human friendship. We see him in our duties, and per- 
form them more gladly, because they are the best trib- 
ute we can offer our Heavenly Benefactor. Even the 
consciousness of sin, mournful as it is, does not subvert 
our peace ; for, in the mercy of God, as made manifest 
in Jesus Christ, we see an inexhaustible fountain of 
strength, purity, and pardon, for all who, in filial reli- 
ance, seek these heavenly gifts. — Through this faith, 
we are conscious of a new benevolence springing up to 
our fellow-creatures, purer and more enlarged than natu- 
ral affection. Towards all mankind we see a rich and 
free love flowing from the common Parent, and, touched 
by this love, we are the friends of all. We compas- 
sionate the most guilty, and would win them back to 
God. — Through this faith, we receive the happiness of 
an ever-enlarging hope. There is no good too vast for 
us to anticipate for the universe or for ourselves, from 
such a Father as we believe in. We hope from him, 
what we deem his greatest gift, even the gift of his own 
Spirit, and the happiness of advancing for ever in truth 
and virtue, in power and love, in union of mind with the 
Father and the Son. — We are told, indeed, that our 
faith will not prove an anchor in the last hour. But we 
have known those, whose departure it has brightened ; 
and our experience of its power, in trial and peril, has 
proved it to be equal to all the wants of human nature. 



MOST FAVORABLE TO PIETY. 267 

We doubt not, that, to its sincere followers, death will 
be a transition to the calm, pure, joyful mansions, pre- 
pared by Christ for his disciples. There we expect to 
meet that great and good Deliverer. With the eye of 
faith, we already see him looking round him with celes- 
tial love on all of every name, who have imbibed his 
spirit. His spirit. ; his loyal and entire devotion to the 
will of his Heavenly Father ; his universal, unconquera- 
ble benevolence, through which he freely gave from his 
pierced side his blood, his life for the salvation of the 
world ; this divine love, and not creeds, and narnes, and 
forms, will then be found to attract his supreme regard. 
This spirit we trust to see in multitudes of every sect 
and name ; and we trust, too, that they, who now re- 
proach us, will at that day recognise, in the dreaded 
Unitarian, this only badge of Christ, and will bid him 
welcome to the joy of our common Lord. — I have thus 
stated the views with which we have reared this build- 
ing. We desire to glorify God, to promote a purer, 
nobler, happier piety. Even if we err in doctrine, we 
think that these motives should shield us from reproach ; 
should disarm that intolerance, which would exclude us 
from the church on earth, and from our Father's house 
in heaven. 

We end, as we began, by offering up this building to 
the Only Living and True God. We have erected it 
amidst our private habitations, as a remembrancer of 
our Creator. We have reared it in this busy city, as a 
retreat for pious meditation and prayer. We dedicate 
it to the King and Father Eternal, the King of kings 
and Lord of lords. We dedicate it to his Unity, to 
his unrivalled and undivided Majesty. We dedicate it 
to the praise of his free, unbought, unmerited grace. 

18 



268 UNITARIAN CHRISTIANITY MOST FAVORABLE TO PIETY. 

We dedicate it to Jesus Christ, to the memory of his 
love, to the celebration of his divine virtue, to the 
preaching of that truth, which he sealed with blood. 
We dedicate it to the Holy Spirit, to the sanctifying 
influence of God, to those celestial emanations of light 
and strength, which visit and refresh the devout mind. 
We dedicate it to prayers and praises, which, we trust, 
will be continued and perfected in heaven. We dedi- 
cate it to social worship, to Christian intercourse, to the 
communion of saints. We dedicate it to the cause of 
pure morals, of public order, of temperance, upright- 
ness, and general good will. We dedicate it to Chris- 
tian admonition, to those warnings, remonstrances, and 
earnest and tender persuasions, by which the sinner may 
be arrested, and brought back to God. We dedicate it 
to Christian consolation, to those truths which assuage 
sorrow, animate penitence, and lighten the load of human 
anxiety and fear. We dedicate it to the doctrine of 
Immortality, to sublime and joyful hopes which reach 
beyond the grave. In a word, we dedicate it to the 
great work of perfecting the human soul, and fitting it 
for nearer approach to its Author. Here may heart 
meet heart. Here may man meet God. From this 
place may the song of praise, the ascription of gratitude^ 
the sigh of penitence, the prayer for grace, and the holy 
resolve, ascend as fragrant incense to Heaven ; and, 
through many generations, may parents bequeath to their 
children this house, as a sacred spot, where God had 
"lifted upon them his countenance," and given them 
pledges of his everlasting love. 



OBJECTIONS TO UNITARIAN CHRISTIANITY 

CONSIDERED. 

1819. 



It is due to truth, and a just deference to our fellow- 
Christians, to take notice of objections which are cur- 
rently made to our particular views of religion ; nor ought 
we to dismiss such objections as unworthy of attention, 
on account of their supposed lightness ; because what is 
light to us, may weigh much with our neighbour, and truth 
may suffer from obstructions which a few explanations 
might remove. It is to be feared that those Christians, 
who are called Unitarian, have been wanting in this duty. 
Whilst they have met the labored arguments of their op- 
ponents fully and fairly, they have overlooked the loose, 
vague, indefinite objections, which float through the com- 
munity, and operate more on common minds than formal 
reasoning. On some of these objections, remarks will 
now be offered ; and it is hoped that our plainness of 
Speech will not be construed into severity, nor our stric- 
tures on different systems be ascribed to a desire of re- 
taliation. It cannot be expected, that we shall repel with 
indifference, what seem to us reproaches on some of the 
most important and consoling views of Christianity. Be- 
lieving that the truths, which through God's good provi* 



270 OBJECTIONS TO UNITARIAN 

dence we are called to maintain, are necessary to the 
vindication of the Divine character, and to the prevalence 
of a more enlightened and exalted piety, we are bound to 
assert them earnestly, and to speak freely of the opposite 
errors which now disfigure Christianity. — What, then, 
are the principal objections to Unitarian Christianity ? 

I. It is objected to us, that we deny the Divinity of 
Jesus Christ. Now what does this objection mean ? 
What are we to understand by the Divinity of Christ ? 
In the sense in which many Christians, and perhaps a 
majority, interpret it, we do not deny it, but believe it as 
firmly as themselves. We believe firmly in the Divinity 
of Christ's mission and office, that he spoke with Divine 
authority, and was a bright image of the Divine perfec- 
tions. We believe that God dwelt in him, manifested 
himself through him, taught men by him, and communi- 
cated to him his spirit without measure. We believe 
that Jesus Christ was the most glorious display, expres- 
sion, and representative of God to mankind, so that in 
seeing and knowing him, we see and know the invisible 
Father ; so that when Christ came, God visited the world 
and dwelt with men more conspicuously than at any form- 
er period. In Christ's words, we hear God speaking ; in 
his miracles, we behold God acting ; in his character and 
life, we see an unsullied image of God's purity and love. 
We believe, then, in the Divinity of Christ, as this term is 
often and properly used. — How, then, it may be asked, do 
we differ from other Christians ? We differ in this im- 
portant respect. Whilst we honor Christ as the Son, re- 
presentative, and image of the Supreme God, we do not 
believe him to be the Supreme God himself. We maintain, 
that Christ and God are distinct beings, two beings, not one 
and the same being. On this point a little repetition may 
ne pardoned, for many good Christians, after the contro- 
versies of ages, misunderstand the precise difference be- 



CHRISTIANITY CONSIDERED. 271 

tween us and themselves. Trinitarianism teaches, that 
Jesus Christ is the supreme and Infinite God, and that he 
and his Father are not only one in affection, counsel, and 
will, but are strictly and literally one and the same being. 
Now to us this doctrine is most unscriptural and irration- 
al. We say that the Son cannot be the same being with 
his own Father ; that he, who was sent into the world to 
save it, cannot be the living God who sent him. The lan- 
guage of Jesus is explicit and unqualified. " I came not 
to do mine own will." — " I came not from myself." — " I 
came from God." Now we affirm, and this is our chief 
heresy, that Jesus was not and could not be the God from 
whom he came, but was another being ; and it amazes us 
that any can resist this simple truth. The doctrine, that 
Jesus, who was born at Bethlehem ; who ate and drank 
and slept ; who suffered and was crucified ; who came 
from God ; who prayed to God ; who did God's will ; and 
who said, on leaving the world, " I ascend to my Father 
and your Father, to my God and your God " ; the doc- 
trine that this Jesus was the Supreme God himself, and 
the same being with his Father, this seems to us a contra- 
diction to reason and Scripture so flagrant, that the simple 
statement of it is a sufficient refutation. We are often 
charged with degrading Christ ; but if this reproach be- 
long to any Christians, it falls, we fear, on those who ac- 
cuse him of teaching a doctrine so contradictory, and so 
subversive of the supremacy of our Heavenly Father. 
Certainly our humble and devout Master has given no 
ground for this accusation. He always expressed towards 
God the reverence of a son. He habitually distinguished 
himself from God. He referred to God all his powers. 
He said without limitation or reserve, "The Father 13 
greater than I." — "Of myself I can do nothing." If to 
represent Christ as a being distinct from God, and as in- 
ferior to him, be to degrade him, then let our opponents 



272 OBJECTIONS TO UNITARIAN 

lay the guilt where it belongs, not on us, but on our Mas- 
ter, whose language we borrow, in whose very words we 
express our sentiments, whose words we dare not trifle 
with and force from their plain sense. Our limits will not 
allow us to say more ; but we ask common Christians, 
who have taken their opinions from the Bible, rather than 
from human systems, to look honestly into their own 
minds, and to answer frankly, whether they have not un- 
derstood and believed Christ's divinity, in the sense main- 
tained by us, rather than in that for which the Trinitarians 
contend. 

2. We proceed to another objection, and one which 
probably weighs more with multitudes than any other. It 
is this, that our doctrine respecting Christ takes from the 
sinner the only ground of hope. It is said by our oppo- 
nents, "We and all men are sinners by our very nature, 
and infinitely guilty before God. The sword of divine 
justice hangs over us, and hell opens beneath us ; and 
where shall we find a refuge but in an infinite Saviour ? 
We want an Infinite Atonement ; and in depriving us of 
this, you rob us of our hope, you tear from the Scriptures 
the only doctrine which meets our wants. We may burn 
our Bibles, if your interpretation be true, for our case is 
desperate ; we are lost for ever." In such warm and 
wild language, altogether unwarranted by Scripture, yet 
exceedingly fitted to work on common and terror-stricken 
minds, our doctrine is constantly assailed. 

Now, to this declamation, for such we esteem it, we op- 
pose one plain request. Show us, we say, a single pas- 
sage in the Bible, in which we are told that the sin of man 
is infinite, and needs an infinite atonement. We find not 
one. Not even a whisper of this doctrine comes to us 
from the sacred writers. Let us stop a moment and weigh 
this doctrine. It teaches us that man, although created 
by God a frail, erring, and imperfect being, and even 



CHRISTIANITY CONSIDERED. 273 

created with an irresistible propensity to sin, is yet regard- 
ed by the Creator as an infinite offender, meriting infinite 
punishment for his earliest transgressions ; and that he is 
doomed to endless torment, unless an infinite Saviour ap- 
pear for his rescue ! How can any one, we ask, charge 
on our benevolent and righteous Parent such a govern- 
ment of his creatures ? — We maintain, that man is not 
created in a condition which makes an infinite atonement 
necessary ; nor do we believe that any creature can fall 
into a condition, from which God may not deliver him 
without this rigid expedient. Surely, if an infinite satis- 
faction to justice were indispensable to our salvation, if 
God took on him human nature for the very purpose of 
offering it, and if this fact constitute the peculiar glory, 
the life and essence, and the saving efficacy of the Gos- 
pel, we must find it expressed clearly, definitely, in at 
least one passage in the Bible. But not one, we repeat 
it, can be found there. — We maintain, further, that this 
doctrine of God becoming a victim and sacrifice for his 
own rebellious subjects, is as irrational as it is unscriptu- 
ral. We have always supposed that atonement, if neces- 
sary, was to be made to, not by, the sovereign who has 
been offended ; and we cannot conceive a more unlikely 
method of vindicating his authority, than that he himself 
should bear the punishment which is due to transgressors 
of his laws. — We have another objection. If an infinite 
atonement be necessary, and if, consequently, none but 
God can make it, we see not but that God must become a 
sufferer, must take upon himself our pain and woe ; a 
thought from which a pious mind shrinks with horror. 
To escape this difficulty, we are told, that Christ suffered 
as man, not as God ; but if man only suffered, if only a 
human and finite mind suffered, if Christ, as God, was 
perfectly happy on the cross, and bore only a short and 
limited pain in his human nature, where, we ask, was the 
vol. v. 34 



274 OBJECTIONS TO UNITARIAN 

infinite atonement ? Where is the boasted hope which 
this doctrine is said to give to the sinner ? 

The objection, that there is no hope for the sinner, 
unless Christ be the infinite God, amazes us. Surely if 
we have a Father in heaven, of infinite goodness and 
power, we need no other infinite person to save us. The 
common doctrine disparages and dishonors the only true 
God, our Father, as if, without the help of a second and 
a third divinity, equal to himself, he could not restore his 
frail creature, man. We have not the courage of our 
brethren. With the Scriptures in our hands, with the 
solemn attestations which they contain to the divine Unity, 
and to Christ's dependence, we dare not give to the God 
and Father of Jesus an equal or rival in the glory of 
originating our redemption, or of accomplishing it by un- 
derived and infinite power. — Are we asked, as we some- 
times are, what is our hope, if Christ be not the supreme 
God ? We answer, it is the boundless and almighty 
goodness of his Father and our Father ; a goodness 
which cannot require an infinite atonement for the sins of 
a frail and limited creature. God's essential and un- 
changeable mercy, not Christ's infinity, is the Scriptural 
foundation of a sinner's hope. In the Scriptures, our 
heavenly Father is always represented as the sole origi- 
nal, spring, and first cause of our salvation ; and let no 
one presume to divide His glory with another. That 
Jesus came to save us, we owe entirely to the Father's 
benevolent appointment. That Jesus is perfectly ade- 
quate to the work of our salvation, is to be believed, not 
because he is himself the supreme God, but because the 
supreme and unerring God selected, commissioned, and 
empowered him for this office. — That his death is an im- 
portant means of our salvation, we gratefully acknowl- 
edge ; but ascribe its efficacy to the merciful disposition 
of God towards the human race. To build the hope of 



CHRISTIANITY CONSIDERED. 275 

pardon on the independent and infinite sufficiency of Jesus 
Christ, is to build on an unscriptural and false foundation; 
for Jesus teaches us, that of himself he can do nothing ; 
that all power is given to him by his Father ; and that he 
is a proper object of trust, because he came not of him- 
self, or to do his own will, but because the Father sent 
him. We indeed lean on Christ, but it is because he is 
"a corner-stone, chosen by God and laid by God in 
Zion." God's forgiving love, declared to mankind by 
Jesus Christ, and exercised through him, is the founda- 
tion of hope to the penitent, on which we primarily rest, 
and a firmer the universe cannot furnish us. 

3. We now proceed to another objection. We are 
charged with expecting to be saved by Works, and not by 
Grace. This charge may be easily despatched, and a 
more groundless one cannot easily be imagined. We in- 
deed attach great importance to Christian works, or 
Christian obedience, believing that a practice or life con- 
formed to the precepts and example of Jesus, is the great 
end for which faith in him is required, and is the great 
condition on which everlasting life is bestowed. We are 
accustomed to speak highly of the virtues and improve- 
ments of a true Christian, rejecting with abhorrence the 
idea, that they are no better than the outward Jewish 
righteousness, which the Prophet called "filthy rags " ; 
and maintaining with the Apostle, that they are "in the 
sight of God, of great price." We believe that holiness 
or virtue is the very image of God in the human soul, a 
ray of his brightness, the best gift which he communicates 
to his creatures, the highest benefit which Christ came to 
confer, the only important and lasting distinction between 
man and man. Still we always and earnestly maintain, 
that no human virtue, no human obedience, can give a 
legal claim, a right by merit, to the life and immortality 
brought to light by Christ. We see and mourn over the 



276 objz.v :s v_ vv::\v.v--v 

deficiencies, broken resolutkms and mixed motives of the 
best men. We always affirm, that iod's grace, benigni- 
ty, tree kindness, is ne >y the m st advanced Chris- 
tians, and that to this alone we owe the promise ii 

Grospel, of full remission, anc everlasting happiness to 
the penitent. Xone speak d£ mercy more constantly than 
we. One of our distinctions is. that we magnify this 

lovely attribute of the I _v v So accustomed are we :; 

insist on the infinity of God's grace and mei .; that our 
adversaries often charge us with forgetting his justice j 

and vet it is objected to us, that, renouncing grace, we 
appeal to justice, and build our hope on the abundance 
of our merit I 

4. We now proceed to another objection often virred 
against our views, or rather agriv-: those who oreach 
them: audit is this, that we preach m rality. To meet 
r his objection, we beg to know "'he: is intended by m ral- 
ity. Axe we to understand by it. what it propc 
vvv mvi -vh"he v:vv v: wever made vr. " .. v-v -vhevier 

by nature or revelation I Does it mean even: 

of those obligations which belong to us as moral beings ? 
Does it mean that "sober, righteous, godly life,' 3 which 
our moral governor has prescribed to us by vis Son, as 
the great preparation for heaven I If this be morality, 
we cheerfully plead guilty :: the charge s»f preaching it, 
. v Laboring chiefly and constantly to enforce it ; and 
'.: vi'v.; he we 1c . tnat ail the :". : :v vies, precepts, threat- 
enings, and promises :f the Gospel, are revealed for no 
other end than to make men moral, in this true and gen- 
erous sens:-, we hope :: : mtinue to merit this reproach. 

We fear, however, that this is not the meaning of the 
morality, which is said to be vie burden : :' v/.r -reaching. 
Some, at least, who thus reproach us. mean that we are 
accustomed to enjoin »nly a worldly and social morality, 
consisting in common honesty, common kindness, and 



CHRISTIANITY CONSIDERED. 277 

freedom from gross vices ; neglecting to inculcate inward 
purity, devotion, heaveniy-mindedness, and love to Jesus 
Christ. We hope that the persons who thus accuse us 
speak from rumor, and have never heard our instructions 
for themselves ; for the charge is false ; and no one who 
ever sat under our ministry can urge it, without branding 
himself a slanderer. The first and great commandment, 
which is to love God supremely, is recognised and en- 
forced habitually in our preaching; and our obligations to 
Jesus Christ, the friend who died for us, are urged, we 
hope, not wholly without tenderness and effect. 

It is but justice, however, to observe of many, that 
when they reproach us with moral preaching, they do not 
mean that we teach only outward decencies, but that we 
do not inculcate certain favorite doctrines, which are to 
them the very marrow and richness of the Gospel. When 
such persons hear a sermon, be the subject what it may, 
which is not seasoned with recognitions of the Trinity, 
total depravity, and similar articles of faith, they call it 
moral. According to this strange and unwarrantable use 
of the term, we rejoice to say that we are " moral preach- 
ers " ; and it comforts us that we have for our pattern, 
"him who spake as man never spake," and who, in his 
longest discourse, has dropped not a word about a Trin- 
ity, or inborn corruption, or special and electing grace ; 
and still more, we seriously doubt whether our preaching 
could with propriety be called moral, did we urge these 
doctrines, especially the two last ; for, however warmly 
they may be defended by honest men, they seem to us to 
border on immorality ; that is, to dishonor God, to weak- 
en the sense of responsibility, to break the spirit, and to 
loosen the restraints on guilty passion. 

5. Another objection urged against us, is, that our sys- 
tem does not produce as much zeal, seriousness, and pie- 
ty as other views of religion. The objection it is difficult 
34* x 



278 OBJECTIONS TO UNITARIAN 

to repel, except by language which will seem to be a 
boasting of ourselves. When expressed in plain lan- 
guage, it amounts to this ; — " We Trinitarians and Cal- 
vinists are better and more pious than you Unitarians, and 
consequently our system is more Scriptural than yours." 
Now assertions of this kind do not strike us as very mod- 
est and humble, and we believe that truth does not re- 
quire us to defend it by setting up our piety above that 
of our neighbours. — This, however, we would say, that 
if our zeal and devotion are faint, the fault is our own, 
not that of our doctrine. We are sure that our views 
of the Supreme Being are incomparably more affecting 
and attractive than those which we oppose. It is the 
great excellence of our system, that it exalts God, vindi- 
cates his parental attributes, and appeals powerfully to 
the ingenuous principles of love, gratitude, and venera- 
tion ; and when we compare it with the doctrines which 
are spread around us, we feel that of all men we are 
most inexcusable, if a filial piety do not spring up and 
grow strong in our hearts. 

Perhaps it may not be difficult to suggest some causes 
for the charge, that our views do not favor seriousness 
and zeal. One reason probably is, that we interpret with 
much rigor those precepts of Christ, which forbid osten- 
tation, and enjoin modesty and retirement in devotion. 
We dread a showy religion. We are disgusted with pre- 
tensions to superior sanctity, that stale and vulgar way 
of building up a sect. We believe that true religion 
speaks in actions more than in words, and manifests itself 
chiefly in the common temper and life ; in giving up the 
passions to God's authority, in inflexible uprightness and 
truth, in active and modest charity, in candid judgment, 
and in patience under trials and injuries. We think it 
no part of piety to publish its fervors, but prefer a deli- 
cacy in regard to these secrets of the soul ; and hence, 



CHRISTIANITY CONSIDERED. 279 

to those persons who think religion is to be worn con- 
spicuously and spoken of passionately, we may seem cold 
and dead, when perhaps, were the heart uncovered, it 
might be seen to be "alive to God," as truly as their 
own. 

Again, it is one of our principles, flowing necessarily 
from our views of God, that religion is cheerful ; that 
where its natural tendency is not obstructed by false 
theology, or a melancholy temperament, it opens the 
heart to every pure and innocent pleasure. We do not 
think that piety disfigures its face, or wraps itself in a 
funeral pall as its appropriate garb Now, too many con- 
ceive of religion as something gloomy, and never to be 
named but with an altered tone and countenance ; and 
where they miss these imagined signs of piety, they can 
hardly believe that a sense of God dwells in the heart. 

Another cause of the error in question, we believe to 
be this. Our religious system excludes, or at least does 
not favor, those overwhelming terrors and transports 
which many think essential to piety. We do not be- 
lieve in shaking and disordering men's understandings, 
by excessive fear, as a preparation for supernatural grace 
and immediate conversion. This we regard as a dread- 
ful corruption and degradation of religion. Religion, we 
believe, is a gradual and rational work, beginning some- 
times in sudden impressions, but confirmed by reflection, 
growing by the regular use of Christian means, and ad- 
vancing silently to perfection. Now, because we specify 
no time when we were overpowered and created anew by 
irresistible impulse ; because we relate no agonies of de- 
spair succeeded by miraculous light and joy, we are 
thought by some to be strangers to piety ; — how reason- 
ably, let the judicious determine. 

Once more ; we are thought to want zeal, because our 
principles forbid us to use many methods for spreading 



230 OBJECTIONS TO UNITARIAN 

them, which are common with other Christians. Whilst 
we value highly our peculiar views, and look to them for 
the best fruits of piety, we still consider ourselves as 
bound to think charitably of those who doubt or deny 
them ; and with this conviction, we cannot enforce them 
with that vehemence, positiveness, and style of menace, 
which constitute much of the zeal of certain denomina- 
tions ; — and we freely confess that we would on no ac- 
count exchange our charity for their zeal ; and we trust 
that the time is near, when he who holds what he deems 
truth with lenity and forbearance, will be accounted more 
pious than he who compasseth sea and land to make pros- 
elytes to his sect, and " shuts the gates of mercy " on all 
who will not bow their understandings to his creed. — We 
fear, that in these remarks we may have been uncon- 
sciously betrayed into a self-exalting spirit. Nothing 
could have drawn them from us, but the fact that a very 
common method of opposing our sentiments, is to decry 
the piety of those who adopt them. After all, we mean 
not to deny our great deficiencies. We have nothing to 
boast before God, although the cause of truth forbids us 
to submit to the censoriousness of our brethren. 

6. Another objection to our views, is, that they lead to 
a rejection of revelation. Unitarianism has been called 
" a half-way house to infidelity." — Now, to this objection 
we need not oppose general reasonings. We will state a 
plain fact. It is this. A large proportion of the most 
able and illustrious defenders of the truth of Christianity 
have been Unitarians ; and our religion has received from 
them, to say the least, as important service in its conflicts 
with infidelity, as from any class of Christians whatever. 
From the long catalogue of advocates of Christianity 
among Unitarians, we can select now but a few ; but 
these few are a host. The name of John Locke is famil- 
iar to every scholar. He rendered distinguished service to 



CHRISTIANITY CONSIDERED. 281 

the philosophy of the human mind ; nor is this his highest 
praise. His writings on government and toleration con- 
tributed more than those of any other individual, to the 
diffusion of free and generous sentiments through Europe 
and America ; and perhaps Bishop Watson was not guilty 
of great exaggeration, when he said, "This great man 
has done more for the establishment of pure Christianity 
than any author I am acquainted with." He was a labo- 
rious and successful student of the Scriptures. His 
works on the "Epistles of Paul," and on the "Reason- 
ableness of Christianity," formed an era in sacred lit- 
erature ; and he has the honor of having shed a new and 
bright light on the darkest parts of the New Testament, 
and in general on the Christian system. Now Locke, be 
it remembered, was a Unitarian. — We pass to another 
intellectual prodigy, — to Newton, a name which every 
man of learning pronounces with reverence ; for it re- 
minds him of faculties so exalted above those of ordinary 
men, that they seem designed to help our conceptions of 
superior orders of being. This great man, who gained 
by intuition what others reap from laborious research, 
after exploring the laws of the universe, turned for light 
and hope to the Bible ; and although his theological works 
cannot be compared with Locke's, yet in his illustrations 
of the prophecies, and of Scripture chronology, and in his 
criticisms on two doubtful passages,* which arc among 
the chief supports of the doctrine of the Trinity, he is 
considered as having rendered valuable services to the 
Christian cause. Newton, too, was a Unitarian. — We 
are not accustomed to boast of men, or to prop our faith 
by great names ; for Christ, and He only, is our Master ; 
but it is with pleasure, that we find in our ranks the most 
gifted, sagacious, and exalted minds ; and we cannot bu/ 
smile, when we sometimes hear from men and women of 

* t John v. 7 ; 1 Tim. iii. 16. 



2^2 OBJECTIONS TO UNITARIAN 

very limited culture, and with no advantages for enlarged 
inquiry, reproachful and contemptuous remarks on a doc- 
trine which the vast intelligence of Locke and Newton, 
dfter much study of the Scriptures, and in opposition to a 
prejudiced and intolerant age. received as the truth of 
God. It is proper to state, that doubts have lately been 
raised as to the religious opinions of Locke and Newton, 
and for a very obvious reason. In these times of growing 
light, their names have been found too useful to the Uni- 
tarian cause. But the long and general belief of the 
Unitarianism of these illustrious men can hardly be ac- 
counted for, but by admitting the fact ; and we know of 
no serious attempts to set aside the proofs on which this 
belief is founded. 

We pass to another writer, who was one of the bright- 
est ornaments of the Church of England and of the age 
in which he lived, Dr. Samuel Clarke. In classical liter- 
ature, and in metaphysical speculation, Dr. Clarke has a 
reputation which needs no tribute at our hands. His ser- 
mons are an invaluable repository of Scriptural criticism ; 
and his work on the evidences of natural and revealed re- 
ligion, has ever been considered as one of the ablest vin- 
dications of our common faith. This great man was a 
Unitarian. He believed firmly that Jesus was a distinct 
being from his Father, and a derived and dependent be- 
ing ; and he desired to bring the liturgy of his church 
into a correspondence with these doctrines. 

To those who are acquainted with the memorable infi- 
del controversy in the early part of the last century, ex- 
cited by the writings of Bolingbroke, Tindal. Morgan, Col- 
lins, and Chubb, it will be unnecessary to speak of the 
zeal and power with which the Christian cause was main- 
tained by learned Unitarians. But we must pass over 
these, to recall a man whose memory is precious to en- 
lightened believers ; we mean Lardner, that most patient 



CHRISTIANITY CONSIDERED. 283 

and successful advocate of Christianity ; who has writ- 
ten, we believe, more largely than any other author on 
the evidences of the Gospel ; from whose works later 
authors have drawn as from a treasure-house ; and 
whose purity and mildness have disarmed the severity 
and conciliated the respect of men of very different views 
from his own. Lardner was a Unitarian. — Next to 
Lardner, the most laborious advocate of Christianity 
against the attacks of infidels, in our own day, was 
Priestley ; and whatever we may think of some of his 
opinions, we believe that none of his opposers ever ques- 
tioned the importance of his vindications of our common 
faith. We certainly do not say too much, when we af- 
firm that Unitarians have not been surpassed by any de- 
nomination in zealous, substantial service to the Christian 
cause. Yet we are told that Unitarianism leads to infi- 
delity ! We are reproached with defection from that 
religion, round which we have gathered in the day of its 
danger, and from which, we trust, persecution and death 
cannot divorce us. 

It is indeed said, that instances have occurred of per- 
sons, who, having given up the Trinitarian doctrine, have 
not stopped there, but have resigned one part of Christi- 
anity after another, until they have become thorough infi- 
dels. To this we answer, that such instances we have 
never known ; but that such should occur is not improba- 
ble, and is what we should even expect ; for it is natural 
that when the mind has detected one error in its creed, it 
should distrust every other article, and should exchange 
its blind and hereditary assent for a sweeping skepticism. 
We have examples of this truth at the present moment, 
both in France and Spain, where multitudes have pro- 
ceeded from rejecting Popery to absolute Atheism. Now, 
who of us will argue that the Catholic faith is true, be- 
cause multitudes who relinquished it have also cast away 



284 OBJECTIONS TO UNITARIAN 

every religious principle and restraint ; and if the argu* 
ment be not sound on the side of Popery, how can it be 
pressed into the service of Trinitarianism ? The fact is, 
that false and absurd doctrines, when exposed, have a 
natural tendency to beget skepticism in those who re- 
ceived them without reflection. None are so likely to 
believe too little as those who have begun with believing 
too much ; and hence we charge upon Trinitarianism 
whatever tendency may exist in those who forsake it, to 
sink gradually into infidelity. 

Unitarianism does not lead to infidelity. On the con- 
trary, its excellence is, that it fortifies faith. Unitarian- 
ism is Christianity stripped of those corrupt additions 
which shock reason and our moral feelings. It is a ra- 
tional and amiable system, against which no man's under- 
standing or conscience, or charity, or piety revolts. Can 
the same be said of that system, which teaches the doc- 
trines of three equal persons in one God, of natural and 
total depravity, of infinite atonement, of special and 
electing grace, and of the everlasting misery of the non- 
elected part of mankind ? We believe that unless Chris- 
tianity be purified from these corruptions, it will not be 
able to bear the unsparing scrutiny to which the progress 
of society is exposing it. We believe that it must be re- 
formed, or intelligent men will abandon it. As the friends 
of Christianity, and the foes of infidelity, we are there- 
fore solicitous to diffuse what seem to us nobler and juster 
views of this divine system. 

7. It was our purpose to consider one more objection 
to our views ; namely, that they give no consolation in 
sickness and death. But we have only time to express 
amazement at such a charge. What ! a system which 
insists with a peculiar energy on the pardoning mercy of 
God, on his universal and parental love, and on the doc- 
trine of a resurrection and immortality, — such a system 



CHRISTIANITY CONSIDERED. 285 

unable to give comfort ? It unlocks infinite springs of 
consolation and joy, and gives to him who practically re- 
ceives it, a living, overflowing, and unspeakable hope. 
Its power to sustain the soul in death has been often 
tried ; and did we believe dying men to be inspired, or 
that peace and hope in the last hours were God's seal to 
the truth of doctrines, we should be able to settle at once 
the controversy about Unitarianism. A striking example 
of the power of this system in disarming death, was lately 
given by a young minister in a neighbouring town,* 
known to many of our readers, and singularly endeared 
to his friends by eminent Christian virtue. He was 
smitten by sickness in the midst of a useful and happy 
life, and sunk slowly to the grave. His religion, and it 
was that which has now been defended, gave habitual 
peace to his mind, and spread a sweet smile over his pale 
countenance. He retained his faculties to his last hour ; 
and when death came, having left pious counsel to the 
younger members of his family, and expressions of grati- 
tude to his parents, he breathed out life in the language 
of Jesus, — " Father, into thy hands I commend my spir- 
it." Such was the end of one who held, with an un- 
wavering faith, the great principles which we have here 
advanced ; and yet our doctrine has no consolation, we 
are told, for sickness and death ! 

We have thus endeavoured to meet objections com- 
monly urged against our views of religion ; and we have 
done this, not to build up a party, but to promote views 
of Christianity, which seem to us particularly suiteo 1 to 
strengthen men's faith in it, and to make it fruitful of 
good works and holy lives. Christian virtue, Christian 
holiness, love to God and man, these are all which we 

* Rev. John E. Abbot, of Salem. This tract was first published in 1819 
in the " Christian Disciple " 

35 



286 



OBJECTIONS, &c, CONSIDERED. 



think worth contending for ; and these we believe to be 
intimately connected with the system now maintained. If 
in this we err, may God discover our error, and disap- 
point our efforts. We ask no success, but what he may 
approve, — no proselytes but such as will be made better, 
purer, happier by the adoption of our views. 



THE MORAL ARGUMENT AGAINST 

CALVINISM, 

Illustrated in a Review of a Work entitled " A General View 
of the Doctrines of Christianity, designed more es- 
pecially for the Edification and Instruction of Families. Boston, 
1809." 

The work, of which we have prefixed the title to this 
article, was published several years ago, and has been 
read by many among us with pleasure and profit. IL 
it is not known as widely as it should be, and we wisn 
to call to it the notice which it merits. It is not an 
original work, but was compiled chiefly from the writ- 
ings of the Rev. Robert Fellowes, whose name is 
probably known to most of our readers. The title we 
think not altogether happy, because it raises an expec- 
tation which the book does not answer. We should 
expect from it a regular statement of the great truths 
of our religion ; but we find, what at present is perhaps 
as useful, a vindication of Christianity from the gross 
errors, which Calvinism has labored to identify with this 
divine system. This may easily be supposed from the 
table of contents. The book professes to treat of the 
following subjects : — The nature of religion and the 
mistakes that occur on that subject ; the free-agency 
19 



288 THE MORAL ARGUMENT 

and accountableness of man ; the fall of Adam, and 
original sin ; the doctrine of faith in general, and of 
religious faith in particular ; the doctrine of works ; the 
doctrine of regeneration ; the doctrine of repentance ; 
the doctrine of grace ; the doctrine of election and rep- 
robation ; the doctrine of perseverance ; the visiting 
of the iniquities of the fathers upon the children ; and 
the sin against the Holy Ghost. — By those, who are 
acquainted with the five thorny points of Calvinism, 
the design of this compilation will be sufficiently un- 
derstood from the enumeration of topics now given ; 
and few designs are more praiseworthy, than to free 
Christianity from the reproach brought upon it by that 
system. 

The work under review is professedly popular in its 
style and mode of discussion. It has little refined and 
elaborate reasoning, but appeals to the great moral prin- 
ciples of human nature, and to the general strain of the 
Scriptures. It expresses strongly and without circum- 
locution the abhorrence with which every mind, uncor- 
rupted by false theology, must look on Calvinism ; and 
although some of its delineations may be overcharged, 
yet they are substantially correct, and their strength is 
their excellence. The truth is, that nothing is so ne- 
cessary on this subject as to awaken moral feeling in 
men's breasts. Calvinism owes its perpetuity to the 
influence of fear in palsying the moral nature. Men's 
minds and consciences are subdued by terror, so that 
they dare not confess, even to themselves, the shrink- 
ing, 'which they feel, from the unworthy views which 
this 1 pfen i gives of God ; and, by thus smothering 
frleir [ Just 1 c a$nbrr eric e 4 they gradually extinguish it, and 

pven come to vindicate in God what would disgrace 

Ql 



AGAINST CALVINISM. 289 

his creatures, A voice of power and solemn warning 
is needed to rouse them from this lethargy, to give them 
a new and a juster dread, the dread of incurring God's 
displeasure, by making him odious, and exposing reli- 
gion to insult and aversion. — In the present article, 
we intend to treat this subject with great freedom. But 
we beg that it may be understood that by Calvinism we 
intend only the peculiarities or distinguishing features 
of that system. We would also have it remembered, 
that these peculiarities form a small part of the religious 
faith of a Calvinist. He joins with them the general, 
fundamental, and most important truths of Christianity, 
by which they are always neutralized in a greater or 
less degree, and in some cases nullified. Accordingly 
it has been our happiness to see in the numerous body 
by which they are professed, some of the brightest ex- 
amples of Christian virtue. Our hostility to the doctrine 
does not extend to its advocates. In bearing our strong- 
est testimony against error, we do not the less honor 
the moral and religious worth, with which it is often 
connected. 

The book under review will probably be objected 
to by theologians, because it takes no notice of a dis- 
tinction, invented by Calvinisiic metaphysicians, for 
rescuing their doctrines from the charge of aspersing 
God's equity and goodness. We refer to the distinc- 
tion between natural and moral inability^ a subtilty 
which may be thought to deserve some attention, be- 
cause it makes such a show in some of the principal 
books of this sect. But, with due deference to its de- 
fenders, it seems to us groundless and idle, a distinction 
without a difference. An inability to do our duty, which 
is bom with us, is to all intents and according to the 

Y 



290 THE MORAL ARGLMENT 

established meaning of the word, natural. Call it mor- 
al, or what you please, it is still a part of the nature 
which our Creator gave us, and to suppose that he pun- 
ishes us for it, because it is an inability seated in the 
will, is just as absurd, as to suppose him to pumsh us 
for a weakness of sight or of a limb. Common people 
cannot understand this distinction, cannot split this hair ; 
and it is no small objection to Calvinism, that, accord- 
ing to its ablest defenders, it can only be reconciled to 
God's perfections, by a metaphysical subtilty, which the 
mass of people cannot comprehend. 

If we were to speak as critics of the style of this 
book, we should say, that, whilst generally clear, and 
sometimes striking, it has the faults of the style which 
was very current not many years ago in this country ? 
and which, we rejoice to say, is giving place to a bet- 
ter. The style to which we refer, and which threatened 
to supplant good writing in this country, intended to 
be elegant, but fell into jejuneness and insipidity. It 
delighted in words and arrangements of words, which 
were little soiled by common use, and mistook a spruce 
neatness for grace. We had a Procrustes' bed for sen- 
tences, and there seemed to be a settled war between 
the style of writing and the free style of conversation. 
Times we think have changed. Men have learned more 
to write as they speak, and are ashamed to dress up 
familiar thoughts, as if they were just arrived from a 
far country, and could not appear in public without a 
foreign and studied attire. They have learned that com- 
mon words are common, precisely because most fitted to 
express real feeling and strong conception, and that the 
circuitous, measured phraseology, which was called ele- 
gance, was but the parade of weakness. They have 



AGAINST CALVINISM. 291 

learned that words are the signs of thought, and worth- 
less counterfeits without it, and that style is good, when, 
instead of being anxiously cast into a mould, it seems a 
free and natural expression of thought, and gives to us 
with power the workings of the author's mind. 

We have been led to make these remarks on the 
style, which in a degree marks the book before us, from 
a persuasion, that this mode of writing has been particu- 
larly injurious to religion, and to rational religion. It 
has crept into sermons perhaps more than into any other 
compositions, and has imbued them with that soporific 
quality, which they have sometimes been found to possess 
in an eminent degree. How many hearers have been 
soothed by a smooth, watery flow of words, a regular 
chime of sentences, and elegantly rocked into repose ! 
We are aware, that preachers, above all writers, are 
excusable for this style, because it is the easiest ; and, 
having too much work to do, they must do it of course 
iu the readiest way. But we mourn the necessity, and 
mourn still more the effect. — It gives us great pleasure 
to say, that, in this particular, we ihink we perceive an 
improvement taking place in this region. Preaching is 
becoming more direct, aims more at impression, and 
seeks the nearest way to men's hearts and consciences. 
We often hear from the pulpit strong thought in plain 
and strong language. It is hoped, from the state of 
society, that we shall not fly from one extreme to anoth- 
er, and degenerate into coarseness ; but perhaps even 
this is a less evil than tameness and insipidity. 

To return ; the principal argument against Calvinism, 
in the General View of Christian Doctrines, is the mor- 
al argument, or that which is drawn from the inconsis- 
tency of the system with the divine perfections. It is 
19* 



292 THE MORAL ARGUMENT 

plain, that a doctrine, which contradicts our best ideas 
of goodness and justice, cannot come from the just and 
good God, or be a true representation of his character. 
This moral argument has always been powerful to the 
pulling down of the strong-holds of Calvinism. Even 
in the dark period, when this system was shaped and 
finished at Geneva, its advocates often writhed under 
the weight of it ; and we cannot but deem it a mark of 
the progress of society, that Calvinists are more and 
more troubled with the palpable repugnance of their 
doctrines to God's nature, and accordingly labor to soft- 
en and explain them, until in many cases the name only 
is retained. If the stern reformer of Geneva could lift 
up his head, and hear the mitigated tone, in which some 
of his professed followers dispense his fearful doctrines, 
we fear, that he could not lie down in peace, until he 
had poured out his displeasure on their cowardice and 
degeneracy. He would tell them, with a frown, that 
moderate Calvinism was a solecism, a contradiction in 
terms, and would bid them in scorn to join their real 
friend, Arminius. Such is the power of public opinion 
and of an improved state of society on creeds, that 
naked, undisguised Calvinism is not very fond of show- 
ing itself, and many of consequence know imperfectly 
what it means. What then is the system against which 
the View of Christian Doctrines is directed ? 

Calvinism teaches, that, in consequence of Adam's 
sin in eating the forbidden fruit, God brings into life all 
his posterity with a nature wholly corrupt, so that they 
are utterly indisposed, disabled, and made opposite to 
all that is spiritually good, and wholly inclined to all 
evil, and that continually. It teaches, that all man- 
kind, having fallen in Adam, are under God's wratb 



AGAINST CALVINTSM. 293 

jttid curse, and so made liable to all miseries in this 
life, to death itself, and to the pains of hell for ever. 
It teaches, that, from this ruined race, God, out of his 
mere good pleasure, has elected a certain number to 
be saved by Christ, not induced to this choice by any 
foresight of their faith or good works, but wholly by 
his free grace and love ; and that, having thus predes- 
tinated them to eternal life, he renews and sanctifies 
them by his almighty and special agency, and brings 
them into a state of grace, from which they cannot fall 
and perish. It teaches, that the rest of mankind he is 
pleased to pass over, and to ordain them to dishonor 
and wrath for their sins, to the honor of his justice and 
power ; in other words, he leaves the rest to the corrup- 
tion in which they were born, withholds the grace which 
is necessary to their recovery, and condemns them to 
"most grievous torments in soul and body without in- 
termission in hell-fire for ever." Such is Calvinism, as 
gathered from the most authentic records of the doc- 
trine. Whoever will consult the famous Assembly's 
Catechisms and Confession, will see the peculiarities 
of the system in all their length and breadth of deform- 
ity. A man of plain sense, whose spirit has not been 
broken to this creed by education or terror, will think 
that it is not necessary for us to travel to heathen coun- 
tries, to learn how mournfully the human mind may 
misrepresent the Deity. 

The moral argument against Calvinism, of which we 
have spoken, must seem irresistible to common and un- 
perverted minds, after attending to the brief statement 
now given. It will be asked with astonishment. How 
is it possible that men can hold these doctrines and yet 
maintain God's goodness and equity ? What principles 



US4 THE HGBAL AEGUME.--, I 

san be more contradictory ? — To remove the tfbjectioB 
to Calvinism, which is drawn from its repugnance to the 
Divine perfections, recourse has been had, as before ob- 
served, to the distinction between natural and moral 
inability, and to other like subtilries. But a more com- 
mon reply, we conceive, has been drawn from the weak- 
ness and imperfection of the human mind, and from its 
incapacity of comprehending God. Calvinists will tell 
us, that, because a doctrine opposes our convictions of 
rectitude, it is not necessarily false : that apparent are 
not always real inconsistencies ; that God is an infinite 
and incomprehensible being, and not to be tried by our 
ideas of fitness and morality ; that we bring their sys- 
tem to an incompetent tribunal, when we submit it to 
the decision of human reason and conscience ; that we 
are weak judges of what is right and wrong, good and 
evil, in the Deity ; that the happiness of the universe 
may require an administration of human affairs which 
is very offensive to limited understandings ; that we must 
follow revelation, not reason or moral feeling, and must 
consider doctrines, which shock us in revelation, as aw- 
ful mysteries, which are dark through our ignorance, and 
which time will enlighten. How little, it is added, can 
man explain or understand God's ways. How incon- 
sistent the miseries of life appear with goodness in the 
Creator. How prone, too, have men always been to 
confound good and evil, to call the just, unjust. How 
presumptuous is it in such a being, to sit in judgment 
upon God, and to question the rectitude of the divine 
administration , because it shocks his sense of rectitude. 
Such we conceive to be a fair statement of the maimer 
in which the Calvinist frequently meets the objection, 
that his system is at war with God's attributes. Such 



AGAINST CALVINISM. 295 

the reasoning by which the voice of conscience and 
nature is stifled, and men are reconciled to doctrines, 
which, if tried by the established principles of morality, 
would be rejected with horror. On this reasoning we 
purpose to offer some remarks ; and we shall avail our- 
selves of the opportunity, to give our views of the con- 
fidence tohich is due to our rational and moral faculties 
in religion. 

That God is infinite, and that man often errs, we 
affirm as strongly as our Calvinistic brethren. We 
desire to think humbly of ourselves, and reverently of 
our Creator. In the strong language of Scripture, "We 
now see through a glass darkly." "We cannot by 
searching find out God unto perfection. Clouds and 
darkness are round about him. His judgments are a 
great deep." God is great and good beyond utterance 
or thought. We have no disposition to idolize our own 
powers, or to penetrate the secret counsels of the Deity. 
But, on the other hand, we think it ungrateful to dis- 
parage the powers which our Creator has given us, or 
to question the certainty or importance of the knowl- 
edge, which he has seen fit to place within our reach. 
There is an affected humility, we think, as dangerous 
as pride. We may rate our faculties too meanly, as 
well as too boastingly. The worst error in religion, 
after all, is that of the skeptic, who records triumphantly 
the weaknesses and wanderings of the human intellect, 
and maintains, that no trust is due to the decisions of 
this erring reason. We by no means conceive, that 
man's greatest danger springs from pride of understand- 
ing, though we think as badly of this vice as other Chris- 
tians. The history of the church proves, that men may 
trust their faculties too little as well as too much, and 



296 THE MORAL ARGUMENT 

that the timidity, which shrinks from investigation, has 
injured the mind, and betrayed the interests of Christi- 
anity, as much as an irreverent boldness of thought. 

It is an important truth, which, we apprehend, has 
not been sufficiently developed, that the ultimate reli- 
ance of a human being is and must be on his own mind. 
To confide in God, we must first confide in the faculties 
by which He is apprehended, and by which the proofs 
of his existence are weighed. A trust in our ability to 
distinguish between truth and falsehood is implied in 
every act of belief ; for to question this ability would of 
necessity unsettle ail belief. We cannot take a step in 
reasoning or action without a secret reliance on our own 
minds. Religion in particular implies, that we have 
understandings endowed and qualified for the highest 
employments of intellect. In affirming the existence 
and perfections of God, we suppose and affirm the ex- 
istence in ourselves of faculties which correspond to 
these sublime objects, and which are fitted to discern 
them. Religion is a conviction and an act of the hu- 
man soul, so that, in denying confidence to the one, we 
subvert the truth and claims of the other. Nothing is 
gained to piety by degrading human nature, for in the 
competency of this nature to know and judge of God 
all piety has its foundation. Our proneness to err in- 
structs us indeed to use cur powers with great caution, 
but not to contemn and neglect them. The occasional 
abuse of our faculties, be it ever so enormous, does not 
prove them unfit for their highest end, which is, to form 
clear and consistent views of God. Because our eyes 
sometimes fail or deceive us, would a wise man pluck 
them out, or cover them with a bandage, and choose to 
walk and work in the dark ? or, because they cannot 



AGAINST CALVINISM. 297 

distinguish distant objects, can they discern nothing clear- 
ly in their proper sphere, and is sight to be pronounced 
a fallacious guide ? Men who, to support a creed, would 
shake our trust in the calm, deliberate, and distinct de- 
cisions of our rational and moral powers, endanger re- 
ligion more than its open foes, and forge the deadliest 
weapon for the infidel. 

It is true that God is an infinite being, and also true, 
that his powers and perfections, his purposes and oper- 
ations, his ends and means, being unlimited, are incom- 
prehensible. In other words, they cannot be wholly ta- 
ken in or embraced by the human mind. In the strong 
and figurative language of Scripture, we " know noth- 
ing " of God's ways ; that is, we know very few of 
them. But this is just as true of the most advanced 
archangel as of man. In comparison with the vastness 
of God's system, the range of the highest created in- 
tellect is narrow ; and, in this particular, man's lot does 
not differ from that of his elder brethren in heaven. 
We are both confined in our observation and experience 
to a little spot in the creation. But are an angel's fac- 
ulties worthy of no trust, or is his knowledge uncertain, 
because he learns and reasons from a small part of 
God's works ? or are his judgments respecting the Cre- 
ator to be charged with presumption, because his views 
do not spread through the whole extent of the universe ? 
We grant that our understandings cannot stretch beyond 
a very narrow sphere. But still the lessons, which we 
learn within this sphere, are just as sure, as if it were 
indefinitely enlarged. Because much is unexplored, we 
are not to suspect what we have actually discovered. 
Knowledge is not the less real, because confined. The 
man, who has never set foot beyond his native village. 



298 THE MORAL ARGUMENT 

knows its scenery and inhabitants as undoubtingly, as if 
he had travelled to the poles. We indeed see very lit- 
tle ; but that little is as true, as if every thing else were 
seen ; and our future discoveries must agree with and 
support it. Should the whole order and purposes of 
the universe be opened to us, it is certain that nothing 
would be disclosed, which would in any degree shake 
our persuasion, that the earth is inhabited by rational 
and moral beings, who are authorized to expect from 
their Creator the most benevolent and equitable gov- 
ernment. No extent of observation can unsettle those 
primary and fundamental principles of moral truth, which 
we derive from our highest faculties operating in the re- 
lations in which God has fixed us. In every region and 
period of the universe, it will be as true as it is now T on 
the earth, that knowledge and power are the measures 
of responsibility, and that natural incapacity absolves 
from guilt. These and other moral verities, which are 
among our clearest perceptions, would, if possible, be 
strengthened, in proportion as our powers should be en- 
larged ; because harmony and consistency are the char- 
acters of God's administration, and all our researches 
into the universe only serve to manifest its unity, and to 
show a wider operation of the laws which we witness 
and experience on earth. 

We grant that God is incomprehensible , in the sense 
already given. But he is not therefore unintelligible , 
and this distinction we conceive to be important. We 
do not pretend to know the whole nature and properties 
of God, but still we can form some clear ideas of him, 
and can reason from these ideas as justly as from any 
other. The truth is, that we cannot be said to com- 
prehend any being whatever, not the simplest plant or 



AGAINST CALVINISM. 299 

animal. All have hidden properties. Our knowledge 
of all is limited. But have we therefore no distinct 
ideas of the objects around us, and is all our reasoning 
about them unworthy of trust ? Because God is infi- 
nite, his name is not therefore a mere sound. It is a 
representative of some distinct conceptions of our Cre- 
ator ; and these conceptions are as sure, and important, 
and as proper materials for the reasoning faculty, as 
they would be if our views were indefinitely enlarged. 
We cannot indeed trace God's goodness and rectitude 
through the whole field of his operations ; but we know 
the essential nature of these attributes, and therefore 
can often judge what accords with and opposes them. 
God's goodness, because infinite, does not cease to be 
goodness, or essentially differ from the same attribute 
in man ; nor does justice change its nature, so that it 
cannot be understood, because it is seated in an un- 
bounded mind. There have indeed been philosophers, 
" falsely so called," who have argued from the unlimited 
nature of God, that we cannot ascribe to him justice 
and other moral attributes, in any proper or definite 
sense of those words ; and the inference is plain, that 
all religion or worship, wanting an intelligible object, 
must be a misplaced, wasted offering. This doctrine 
from the infidel we reject with abhorrence ; but some- 
thing, not very different, too often reaches us from the 
mistaken Christian, who, to save his creed, shrouds the 
Creator in utter darkness. In opposition to both, we 
maintain that God's attributes are intelligible, and that 
we can conceive as truly of his goodness and justice, as 
of these qualities in men. In fact, these qualities are 
essentially the same in God and man, though differing 
in degree, in purity, and in extent of operation. We 
20 



300 THE MORAL ARGUMENT 

know not and we cannot conceive of any other justice 
or goodness, than we learn from our own nature ; and 
if God have not these, he is altogether unknown to us 
as a moral being ; he offers nothing for esteem and love 
to rest upon ; the objection of the infidel is just, that 
worship is wasted ; " We worship we know not what." 
It is asked, On what authority do we ascribe to God 
goodness and rectitude, in the sense in which these at- 
tributes belong to men, or how can we judge of the 
nature of attributes in the mind of the Creator ? We 
answer by asking, How is it that we become acquainted 
with the mind of a fellow-creature ? The last is as in- 
visible, as removed from immediate inspection, as the 
first. Still we do not hesitate to speak of the justice 
and goodness of a neighbour ; and how do we gain our 
knowledge ? We answer, by witnessing the effects, op- 
erations, and expressions of these attributes. It is a 
law of our nature to argue from the effect to the cause, 
from the action to the agent, from the ends proposed 
and from the means of pursuing them, to the character 
and disposition of the being in whom we observe them. 
By these processes, we learn the invisible mind and 
character of man ; and by the same we ascend to the 
mind of God, whose works, effects, operations, and 
ends are as expressive and significant of justice and 
goodness, as the best and most decisive actions of men. 
If this reasoning be sound (and all religion rests upon 
it,) then God's justice and goodness are intelligible at- 
tributes, agreeing essentially with the same qualities in 
ourselves. Their operation indeed is infinitely wider, 
and they are employed in accomplishing not only imme- 
diate but remote and unknown ends. Of consequence, 
we must expect that many parts of the divine adminis- 



AGAINST CALVINISM. 301 

tration will be obscure, that is, will not produce imme- 
diate good, and an immediate distinction between virtue 
and vice. But still the unbounded operation of these 
attributes does not change their nature. They are still 
the same, as if they acted in the narrowest sphere. We 
can still determine in many cases what does not accord 
with them. We are particularly sure that those essen- 
tial principles of justice, which enter into and even form 
our conception of this attribute, must pervade every 
province and every period of the administration of a 
just being, and that to suppose the Creator in any in- 
stance to forsake them, is to charge him directly with un- 
righteousness, however loudly the lips may compliment 
his equity. 

" But is it not presumptuous in man," it is continually 
said, " to sit in judgment on God ?" We answer, that 
to " sit in judgment on God" is an ambiguous and of- 
fensive phrase, conveying to common minds the ideas of 
irreverence, boldness, familiarity. The question would 
be better stated thus ; — Is it not presumptuous in man 
to judge concerning God, and concerning what agrees 
or disagrees with his attributes ? We answer confident- 
ly, No ; for in many cases we are competent and even 
bound to judge. And we plead first in our defence the 
Scriptures. How continually does God in his word 
appeal to the understanding and moral judgment of man. 
" O inhabitants of Jerusalem and men of Judah, judge, 
I pray you, between me and my vineyard. What could 
have been done more to my vineyard, that I have not 
done in it." We observe, in the next place, that all 
religion supposes and is built on judgments passed by us 
on God and on his operations. - Is it not, for example, 
our duty and a leading part of piety to praise God : 



302 THE MORAL ARGUMENT 

And what is praising a being, but to adjudge and ascribe 
to him jnst and generous deeds and motives ?. And of 
what value is praise, except from those, who are capa- 
ble of distinguishing between actions which exalt and 
actions which degrade the character ? Is it presump- 
tion to call God excellent 9 And what is this, but to 
refer his character to a standard of excellence, to try it 
by the established principles of rectitude, and to pro- 
nounce its conformity to them ; that is, to judge of God 
and his operations ? 

We are presumptuous, we are told, in judging of our 
Creator. But he himself has made this our duty, in 
giving us a moral faculty ; and to decline it, is to violate 
the primary law of our nature. Conscience, the sense 
of right, the power of perceiving moral distinctions, the 
power of discerning between justice and injustice, ex- 
cellence and baseness, is the highest faculty given us 
by God, the whole foundation of our responsibility, and 
our sole capacity for religion. Now we are forbidden 
by this faculty to love a being, who wants, or who fails 
to discover, moral excellence. God, in giving us con- 
science, has implanted a principle within us, which for- 
bids us to prostrate ourselves before mere power, or to 
offer praise where we do not discover worth ; a princi- 
ple, which challenges our supreme homage for supreme 
goodness, and which absolves us from guilt, when we 
abhor a severe and unjust administration. Our Crea- 
tor has consequently waved his own claims on our ven- 
eration and obedience, any farther than he discovers 
himself to us in characters of benevolence, equity, and 
righteousness. He rests his authority on the perfect 
coincidence of his will and government with those great 
and fundamental principles of morality written on our 



AGAINST CALVINISM. 303 

souls. He desires no worship, but that which springs 
from the exercise of our moral faculties upon his char- 
acter, from our discernment and persuasion of his recti- 
tude and goodness. He asks, he accepts, no love or 
admiration but from those, who can understand the na- 
ture and the proofs of moral excellence. 

There are two or three striking facts, which show 
that there is no presumption in judging of God, and 
of what agrees or disagrees with his attributes. The 
first fact is, that the most intelligent and devout men 
have often employed themselves in proving the existence 
and perfections of God, and have been honored for this 
service to the cause of religion. Now we ask, what is 
meant by the proofs of a divine perfection ? They are 
certain acts, operations, and methods of government, 
which are proper and natural effects, signs, and expres- 
sions of this perfection, and from which, according to 
the established principles of reasoning, it may be infer- 
red. To prove the divine attributes is to collect and 
arrange those works and ways of the Creator, which 
accord with these attributes, correspond to them, flow 
from them, and express them. Of consequence, to 
prove them requires and implies the power of judging 
of what agrees with them, of discerning their proper 
marks and expressions. All our treatises on natural 
theology rest on this power. Every argument in sup- 
port of a divine perfection is an exercise of it. To 
deny it, is to overthrow all religion. 

Now if such are the proofs of God's goodness and 
justice, and if we are capable of discerning them, then 
we are not necessarily presumptuous, when we say of 
particular measures ascribed to him, that they are incon- 
sistent with his attributes, and cannot belong to him. 
20* 



304 THE MOEAL ARGUMENT 

There is plainly no more presumption in affirming of 
certab principles of administration, that they oppose 
God's equity and would prove him unrighteous, than to 
affirm of others, that they prove him upright and good. 
Ihere are signs and evidences of injustice as unequivo- 
cal as those of justice ; and our faculties are as adequate 
to the perception of the last as of the first. If they 
must not be trusted in deciding what would prove God 
unjust, they are unworthy of confidence when they gath- 
er evidences of his rectitude ; and of course, the whole 
structure of religion must fall. 

It is no slight objection to the mode of reasoning 
adopted by the Calvinist, that it renders the proof of 
the divine attributes impossible. When we object to 
his representations of the divine government, that they 
shock our clearest ideas of goodness and justice, he 
replies, that still they may be true, because we know 
very little of God, and what seems unjust to man, may 
be in the Creator the perfection of rectitude. Now 
this weapon has a double edge. If the strongest marks 
and expressions of injustice do not prove God unjust, 
tiien the strongest marks of the opposite character do 
not prove him righteous. If the first do not deserve 
confidence, because of our narrow views of God, nei- 
ther do the last. If, when more shall be known, the 
first may be found consistent with perfect rectitude, 
so, when more shall be known, the last may be found 
consistent with infinite malignity and oppression. Tin's 
reasoning of our opponents casts us on an ocean of 
awful uncertainty. Admit it, and we have no proofs 
of God's goodness and equity to rely upon. What we 
call proofs, may be mere appearances, which a wider 
knowledge of God may reverse. The future may show 



AGAINST CALVINISM. 305 

us, that the very laws and works of the Creator, from 
which we now infer his kindness, are consistent with 
the most determined purpose to spread infinite misery 
and guilt, and were intended, by raising hope, to add 
the agony of disappointment to our other woes. Why 
may not these anticipations, horrible as they are, be 
verified by the unfolding of God's system, if our rea- 
sonings about his attributes are rendered so very un- 
certain, as Calvinism teaches, by the infinity of his 
nature ? 

We have mentioned one fact to show that it is not 
presumptuous to judge of God, and of what accords 
with and opposes his attributes ; namely, the fact that 
his attributes are thought susceptible of proof. Another 
fact, very decisive on this point, is, that Christians of 
all classes have concurred in resting the truth of Chris- 
tianity in a great degree on its internal evidence, that 
is, on its accordance with the perfections of God. How 
common is it to hear from religious teachers, that Chris- 
tianity is worthy of a good and righteous being, that it 
bears the marks of a divine original. Volumes have 
been written on its internal proofs, on the coincidence 
of its purposes and spirit with our highest conceptions 
of God. How common too is it, to say of other 
religions, that they are at war with the divine nature, 
with God's rectitude and goodness, and that we want no 
other proofs of their falsehood. And what does all this 
reasoning imply ? Clearly this, that we are capable of 
determining, in many cases, what is worthy and what is 
unworthy of God, what accords with and what opposes 
his moral attributes. Deny us this capacity, and it 
would be no presumption against a professed revelation, 
that it ascribed to the Supreme Being the most detest- 



306 THE MORAL ARGUMENT 

able practices. It might still be said in support of" such 
a system, that it is arrogant in man to determine what 
kind of revelation suits the character of the Creator. 
Christianity then leans, at least in part, 1 and some think 
chiefly, on internal evidence, or on its agreeableness to 
God's moral attributes ; and is it probable, that this 
religion, having this foundation, contains representations 
of God's government which shock our ideas of recti- 
tude, and that it silences our objections by telling us, 
that we are no judges of what suits or opposes his in- 
finite nature ? 

We will name one more fact to show, that it is not 
presumptuous to form these judgments of the Creator. 
All Christians are accustomed to reason from God's 
attributes, and to use them as tests of doctrines. In 
their controversies with one another, they spare no 
pains to show, that their particular views accord best 
with the divine perfections, and every sect labors to 
throw on its adversaries the odium of maintaining what 
is unworthy of God. Theological writings are filled 
with such arguments ; and yet we, it seems, are guilty 
of awful presumption, when we deny of God principles 
of administration, against which every pure and good 
sentiment in our breasts rises in abhorrence. 

We shall conclude this discussion with an important 
inquiry. If God's justice and goodness are consistent 
with those operations and modes of government, which 
Calvinism ascribes to him, of what use is our belief in 
these perfections ? What expectations can we found 
upon them ? If it consist with divine rectitude to con- 
sign to everlasting misery, beings who have come guilty 
and impotent from his hand, we beg to know vvliat in- 
terest we hav'e in this rectitude, what pledge of good 



AGAINST CALVINISM. 307 

it contains, or what evil can be imagined which may 
not be its natural result ? If justice and goodness, when 
stretched to infinity, take such strange forms and appear 
in such unexpected and apparently inconsistent opera- 
tions, how are we sure, that they will not give up the 
best men to ruin, and leave the universe to the powers 
of darkness ? Such results indeed seem incompatible 
with these attributes, but net more so than the acts at- 
tributed to God by Calvinism. Is it said, that the divine 
faithfulness is pledged in the Scriptures to a happier issue 
of things ? But why should not divine faithfulness tran- 
scend our poor understandings as much as divine good- 
ness and justice, and why may not God, consistently 
with this attribute, crush every hope which his word has 
raised ? Thus all the divine perfections are lost to us 
as grounds of encouragement and consolation, if we main- 
tain, that their infinity places them beyond our judg- 
ment, and that we must expect from them measures and 
operations entirely opposed to what seems to us most 
accordant with their nature. 

We have thus endeavoured to show, that the testimony 
of our rational and moral faculties against Calvinism is 
worthy of trust. — We know that this reasoning will be 
met by the question, What then becomes of Christian- 
ity ? for this religion plainly teaches the doctrines you 
have condemned. Our answer is ready. Christianity 
contains no such doctrines. Christianity, reason, and con- 
science are perfectly harmonious on the subject under 
discussion. Our religion, fairly construed, gives no coun- 
tenance to that system, which has arrogated to itself the 
distinction of Evangelical. We cannot, however, enter 
this field at present. We will only say, that the general 
spirit of Christianity affords a very strong presumption, 



308 THE MORAL ARGUMENT 

that its records teach no such doctrines as we have op- 
Dosed. This spirit is love, charity, benevolence. Chris- 
tianity, we all agree, is designed to manifest God as per- 
fect benevolence, and to bring men to love and imitate 
him. Now is it probable, that a religion, having this ob- 
ject, gives views of the Supreme Being, from which our 
moral convictions and benevolent sentiments shrink with 
horror, and which, if made our pattern, would convert 
us into monsters ! It is plain, that, were a human parent 
to form himself on the universal Father, as described 
by Calvinism, that is, were he to bring bis children into 
life totally depraved, and then to pursue them with end- 
less punishment, we should charge him with a cruelty 
not surpassed in the annals of the world ; or, were a sov- 
ereign to incapacitate his subjects in any way whatever 
for obeying his laws, and then to torture them in dun- 
geons of perpetual woe, we should say, that history re- 
cords no darker crime. And is it probable, that a 
religion, which aims to attract and assimilate us to God, 
considered as love, should hold him up to us in these 
heart-withering characters ? We may confidently ex- 
pect to find in such a system the brightest views of the 
divine nature ; and the same objections lie against in- 
terpretations of its records, which savour of cruelty 
and injustice, as lie against the literal sense of passages 
which ascribe to God bodily wants and organs. Let 
the Scriptures be read with a recollection of the spirit 
of Christianity, and with that modification of particular 
texts by this general spirit, which a just criticism re- 
quires, and Calvinism would no more enter the mind 
of the reader, than Popery, we had almost said, than 
Beathenism. 
In the remarks now made, it will be seen, we hope, 



AGAINST CALVINISM. 309 

that we have aimed to expose doctrines, not to condemn 
their professors. It is true, that men are apt to think 
themselves assailed, when their system only is called 
to account. But we have no foe but error. We are 
less and less disposed to measure the piety of others by 
peculiarities of faith. Men's characters are determined, 
not by the opinions which they profess, but by those on 
which their thoughts -habitually fasten, which recur to 
them most forcibly, and which color their ordinary views 
of God and duty. The creed of habit, imitation, or 
fear, may be defended stoutly, and yet have little prac- 
tical influence. The mind, when compelled by educa- 
tion or other circumstances to receive irrational doc- 
trines, has yet a power of keeping them, as it were, on 
its surface, of excluding them from its depths, of refus- 
ing to incorporate them with its own being ; and, when 
burdened with a mixed, incongruous system, it often 
discovers a- sagacity, which reminds us of the instinct 
of inferior animals, in selecting the healthful and nutri- 
tious portions, and in making them its daily food. Ac- 
cordingly the real faith often corresponds little with that 
which is professed. It often happens, that, through the 
progress of the mind in light and virtue, opinions, once 
central, are gradually thrown outward, lose their vitality, 
and cease to be principles of action, whilst through habit 
they are defended as articles of faith. The words of 
the creed survive, but its advocates sympathize with it 
little more than its foes. These remarks are particular- 
ly applicable to the present subject. A large number, 
perhaps a majority of those, who surname themselves 
with the name of Calvin, have little more title to it than 
ourselves. They keep- the name, and drop the princi- 
ples which it signifies. They adhere to the system as 



310 THE MORAL ARGUMENT 

a whole, out shrink from all its parts and distinguishing 
points. This silent but real defection from Calvinism 
is spreading more and more widely. The grim features 
of this system are softening, and its stern spirit yielding 
to conciliation and charity. We beg our readers to 
consult for themselves the two Catechisms and the Con- 
fession of the Westminster Assembly, and to compare 
these standards of Calvinism, with what now bears its 
name. They will rejoice, we doubt not, in the triumphs 
of truth. With these views, we have no disposition to 
disparage the professors of the system which we con- 
demn, although we believe that its influence is yet so 
extensive and pernicious as to bind us to oppose it. 

Calvinism, we are persuaded, is giving place to bet- 
ter views. It has passed its meridian, and is sinking, 
to rise no more. It has to contend with foes more for- 
midable than theologians, with foes, from whom it can- 
not shield itself in mystery and metaphysical subtilties, 
we mean with the progress of the human mind, and 
with the progress of the spirit of the Gospel. Society 
is going forward in intelligence and charity, and of 
course is leaving the theology of the sixteenth century 
behind it. We hail this revolution of opinion as a most 
auspicious event to the Christian cause. We hear much 
at present of efforts to spread the Gospel. But Chris- 
tianity is gaining more by the removal of degrading er- 
rors, than it would by armies of missionaries who should 
carry with them a corrupted form of the religion. We 
think the decline of Calvinism one of the most encour- 
aging facts in our passing history ; for this system, by 
outraging conscience and reason, tends to array these 
high faculties against revelation. Its errors are pecu- 
liarly mournful, because they relate to the character of 



AGAINST CALVINISM. 311 

God. It darkens and stains his pure nature ; spoils his 
character of its sacredness, loveliness, glory ; and thus 
quenches the central light of the universe, makes exis- 
tence a curse, and the extinction of it a consummation 
devoutly to be wished. We now speak of the peculiar- 
ities of this system, and of their natural influence, when 
not counteracted, as they always are in a greater or less 
degree, by better views, derived from the spirit and 
plain lessons of Christianity. 

We have had so much to do with our subject, that 
we have neglected to make the usual extracts from the 
book which we proposed to review. We earnestly wish, 
that a work, answering to the title of this, which should 
give us " a general view of Christian doctrines," might 
be undertaken by a powerfuPhand. Next to a good 
commentary on the Scriptures, it would be the best 
service which could be rendered to Christian truth. 



LETTER ON CATHOLICISM, 



/ 

TO THE 



EDITOR OF THE "WESTERN MESSENGER/ 



LOUISVILLE, KENTUCKY. 



AA 



ON CATHOLICISM 



Boston, June, 1836. 
My Dear Sir, 

I have received your letter, expressing a very earnest 
desire that I would make some contribution to the pages 
of the " Western Messenger." Your appeal is too 
strong to be resisted. I feel that I must send you 
something, though circumstances, which I cannot con- 
trol, do not allow me to engage in any elaborate dis- 
cussion. I have therefore resolved to write you a letter, 
with the same freedom which I should use, if writing 
not for the public, but to a friend. Perhaps it may 
meet the wants, and suit the frank spirit of the West, 
more than a regular essay. But judge for yourself, and 
do what you will with my hasty thoughts. 

I begin with expressing my satisfaction in your having 
planted yourself in the West. I am glad for your own 
sake, as well as for the sake of the cause you have 
adopted. I say, your own sake. You have chosen 
the good part. The first question to be asked by a 
young man entering into active life, is, in what situation 
he can find the greatest scope and excitement to his 



316 ON CATHOLICISM. 

powers and good affections ? That sphere is the best 
for a man, in which he can best unfold the faculties of a 
Man, in which he can do justice to his whole nature ; 
in which his intellect, heart, conscience, will be called 
into the most powerful life. I am always discouraged 
when I hear a young man asking for the easiest con- 
dition, when I see him looking out for some beaten 
path, in which he may move on mechanically, and with 
the least expense of thought or feeling. The young 
minister sometimes desires to become a fixture in an 
established congregation, which is bound to its place of 
worship by obstinate ties of habit, and which can there- 
fore be kept together with little effort of his own. If 
the congregation happens to be what is called a respect- 
able one. that is, if it happens so far to regard the ruies 
of worldly decorum as never to shock him by immorali- 
ties, and never to force him into any new or strenuous 
exertion for its recovery, so much the better. Such a 
minister is among the most pitiable members of the com- 
munity. Happily this extreme case is rare. But the 
case is not rare of those, who, wishing to do good, still 
desire to reconcile usefulness with all the comforts of 
life, who shrink from the hazards, which men take in 
other pursuits, who want the spirit of enterprise, who 
prefer to reap where others have sowed, and to linger 
round the places of their nativity. At a time when men 
of other professions pour themselves into the new parts 
of the country, and are seeking their fortunes with 
buoyant spirits, and overflowing hopes, the minister 
seems little inclined to seek what is better than fortune 
in untried fields of labor. Of all men, the minister 
should be first to inquire, where shall I find the circum- 
stances most fitted to wake up my whole soul, to task 



ON CATHOLICISM. 317 

all my faculties, to inspire a profound interest, to carry 
me out of myself? I believe you have asked yourself 
this question, and I think you have answered it wisely. 
You have thrown yourself into a new country, where 
there are admirable materials, but where a congregation 
is to be created by your own faithfulness and zeal. 
Not even a foundation is laid, on which you can build. 
There are no mechanical habits among the people, 
which the minister can use as labor-saving machines, 
which will do much of his work for him, which will 
draw people to church whether he meets their wants or 
not. Still more, there are no rigid rules, binding you 
down to specific modes of action, cramping your ener- 
gies, warring with your individuality. You may preach 
in your own way, preach from your observation of the 
effects produced on a free-speaking people. Tradition 
does not take the place of your own reason. In addition 
to this, you see and feel the pressing need of religious 
histruction, in a region where religious institutions are in 
their infancy. That under such circumstances, a man 
who starts with the true spirit will make progress, can 
hardly be doubted. You have peculiar trials, but in 
these you find impulses, which, I trust, are to carry 
you forward to greater usefulness, and to a higher action 
of the whole soul. 

Boston has sometimes been called the Paradise of 
ministers ; and undoubtedly the respect in which the 
profession is held, and the intellectual helps afforded 
here, give some reason for the appellation. But there 
are disadvantages also, and one in particular, to which 
you are not exposed. Shall I say a word of evil of this 
good city of Boston ? Among all its virtues it does not 
abound in a tolerant spirit. The yoke of opinion is a 

23 AA* 



318 



OX CATHOLICISM 



heavy one, often crushing individuality of judgment and 
action. A censorship, unfriendly to free exertion, is 
exercised over the pulpit as well as ever other con- 
cerns. No city in the world is governed so little by a 
police, and so much by mutual inspection, and what is 
called public sentiment. We stand more in awe of one 
another, than most people. Opinion is less individual, 
or runs more into masses, and often rules with a rod 
of iron. Undoubtedly opinion, when enlightened, lofty, 
pure, is a useful sovereign ; but in the present imper- 
fect state of society, it has its evils as well as benefits. 
It suppresses the grosser vices, rather than favors the 
higher virtues. It favors public order, rather than 
originality cf thought, moral energy, and spiritual life. 
To prescribe its due bounds, is a very difficult problem. 
Were its restraints wholly removed, the decorum of the 
pulpit would be endangered ; but that these restraints 
are excessive in this city, and especially in our denomi- 
nation, that they often weigh oppressively on the young 
minister, and that they often take from ministers of all 
ages the courage, confidence, and authority which their 
high mission should inspire, cannot, I fear, be denied. 
The minister here, on entering the pulpit, too often feels, 
that he is to be judged rather than to judge ; that in- 
stead of meeting sinful men, who are to be warned or 
saved, he is to meet critics to be propitiated or dis- 
armed. He feels, that should he trust himself to his 
heart, speak without book, and consequently break some 
law of speech, or be hurried into some daring hyper- 
bole, he should find little mercy. Formerly Felix trem- 
bled before Paul ; now the successor of Paul more fre- 
quently trembles. Foreigners generally set down as 
one of our distinctions, the awe in which we stand of 



ON CATHOLICISM* 319 

opinion, the want of freedom of speech, the predomi- 
nance of caution and calculation over impulse. This 
feature of our society exempts it from some dangers ; 
and those persons who see only ruin in the reforming 
spirit of the times, will prize it as our best characteris- 
tic. Be this as it may, one thing is sure, that it does 
not give energy to the ministry, or favor the nobler 
action or higher products of the mind. Your situation 
gives you greater freedom. You preach, I understand, 
wholly without notes. In this you may carry your 
liberty too far. Writing is one of the great means of 
giving precision, clearness, consistency, and energy to 
thought. Every other sermon, I think, should be writ- 
ten, if circumstances allow it. But he who only preach- 
es from notes, will never do justice to his own powers 
and feelings. The deepest fountains of eloquence with- 
in him will not be unsealed. He will never know the 
full power given him over his fellow-creatures. 

The great danger to a minister at this time is the 
want of life, the danger of being dead while he lives. 
Brought up where Christianity is established, he is in 
danger of receiving it as a tradition. Brought up, 
where a routine of duty is marked out for him, and a 
certain style of preaching imposed, he is in danger of 
preaching from tradition. Ministers are strongly tempt- 
ed to say what they are expected to say. Accordingly 
their tones and looks too often show, that they under- 
stand but superficially what is meant by their words. 
You see that they are talking of that which is not real 
to them. This danger of lifelessness is great in old 
congregations, made up of people of steady habits and 
respectable characters. The minister in such a case 
is apt to feel as if his hearers needed no mighty change, 



320 ON CATHOLICISM. 

and as if his work were accomplished, when his tre* 
isms, expressed with more or less propriety, are re- 
ceived with due respect. He ought to feel, that the 
people may be spiritually dead with their regular habits, 
as he may be with his regular preaching ; that both 
may need to be made alive. It is the advantage of 
such a situation as you are called to fill, that you can 
do nothing without life. A machine in a western pulpit 
cannot produce even the show of an effect. The peo- 
ple may be less enlightened than we are, more irregular 
in habits, more defective in character ; but they must 
have living men to speak to them, and must hear a 
voice which, whether true or erring, still comes from 
the soul, or they cannot be brought to hear. This is 
no small compensation for many disadvantages. 

This Life of which I speak, though easily recognised 
by a congregation, cannot be easily described by them, 
iust as the most ignorant man can distinguish a living 
from a dead body, but knows very little in what vitality 
consists. A common mistake is, that Life in the min- 
ister is strong emotion. But it consists much more in 
the clear perception, the deep conviction of the Reality 
of religion, the reality of virtue, of man's spiritual na- 
ture, of God, of Immortality, of Heaven. The tone 
which most proves a minister to be alive, is that of calm, 
entire confidence in the truth of what he says, the tone 
of a man who speaks of what he has seen and handled, 
the peculiar tone which belongs to one who has come 
fresh from what he describes, to whom the future world 
is as substantial as the present, who does not echo what 
others say of the human soul, but feels his own spiritual 
nature as others feel their bodies, and to whom God is 
as truly present as the nearest fellow-creature. Strong 



ON CATHOLICISM. 321 

emotion in the pulpit is too often a fever caught by sym- 
pathy, or a fervor worked up for the occasion, or a sen- 
sibility belonging more to the nerves than the mind, and 
excited by vague views which fade away before the calm 
reason. Hence enthusiasts often become skeptics. The 
great sign of life is to see and feel, that there is some- 
thing real, substantial, immortal, in Christian virtue ; to 
be conscious of the reality and nearness of your relations 
to God and the invisible world. This is the life, which 
the minister needs, and which it is his great work to 
communicate. My hope is, that by sending ministers 
into new situations, where new wants cry to them for 
supply, a living power may be awakened, to which a 
long established routine of labors is not favorable, and 
which may spread beyond them to their brethren. 

I pass now to another subject. We hear much of 
the Catholic religion in the West, and of its threaten- 
ing progress. There are not a few here who look upon 
this alarm as a pious fraud, who consider the cry of 
" No Popery," as set up by a particular sect to attract 
to itself distinction and funds ; but fear is so natural, 
and a panic spreads so easily, that I see no necessity of 
resorting to so unkind an explanation. It must be con- 
fessed that Protestantism enters on the warfare with 
Popery under some disadvantages, and may be expected 
to betray some consciousness of weakness. Most Prot- 
estant sects are built on the Papal foundation. Their 
creeds and excommunications embody the grand idea of 
Infallibility, as truly as the decrees of Trent and the 
Vatican ; and if the people must choose between differ- 
ent infallibilities, there is much to incline them to that 
of Rome. This has age, the majority of votes, more 
23* 



322 



ON CATHOLICISM. 



daring assumption, and bolder denunciation on its side. 
The popes of our different sects are certainly less im- 
posing to the imagination than the Pope at Rome. 

I trust, however, that, with these advantages, Catholi- 
cism is still not very formidable. It has something 
more to do, than to fight with sects ; its great foe is 
the progress of society. The creation of dark times, 
it cannot stand before the light. In this country in par- 
ticular, it finds no coadjutors in any circumstances, pas- 
sions, or institutions. Catholicism is immovable, and 
movement and innovation are the order of the day. It 
rejects the idea of melioration, and the passion for im- 
provement is inflaming all minds. It takes its stand in 
the Past, and this generation are living in the Future. 
It clings to forms, which the mind has outgrown. It 
will not modify doctrines in which the intelligence of 
the age cannot but recognise the stamp of former igno- 
rance. It forbids free inquiry, and inquiry is the spirit 
of the age, the boldest inquiry, stopping nowhere, invad- 
ing every region of thought. Catholicism wrests from 
the people the right to choose their own ministers, and 
the right of election is the very essence of our. institu- 
tions. It establishes an aristocratical priesthood, and 
the whole people are steeped in republicanism. It with- 
holds the Scriptures, and the age is a reading one, and 
reads the more what is forbidden. Catholicism cannot 
comprehend that the past is not the present, cannot 
comprehend the revolution which the art of printing 
and the revival of learning have effected. Its memory 
seems not to come down lower than the middle ages. 
It aims to impose restraints on thought, which were 
comparatively easy before the press was set in motion, 
and labors to shore up institutions, in utter unconscious- 



ON CATHOLICISM. 323 

ness that the state of society, and the modes of think- 
ing on which they rested, have passed away. 

The political revolutions of the times are enough to 
seal the death-warrant of Catholicism, but it has to en- 
counter a far more important spiritual revolution. Ca- 
tholicism belongs to what may be called the dogmatical 
age of Christianity, the age when it was thought our 
religion might be distilled into a creed, which would 
prove an elixir of life to whoever would swallow it. 
We have now come to learn, that Christianity is not a 
dogma, but a spirit, that its essence is the spirit of its 
divine founder, that it is of little importance what church 
a man belongs to, or what formula of doctrines he sub- 
scribes, that nothing is important but the supreme love, 
choice, pursuit of moral perfection, shining forth in the 
life and teachings of Christ. This is the true Cath- 
olic doctrine, the creed of the true Church, gathering 
into one spiritual communion all good and holy men 
of all ages and regions, and destined to break down all 
the earthly clay-built, gloomy barriers, which now sep- 
arate the good from one another. To this great idea 
of reason and revelation, of the understanding and heart, 
of experience and philosophy, to this great truth of an 
advanced civilization, Catholicism stands in direct hos- 
tility. How sure then is its fall ! 

The great foe of the Romish Church is not the theo- 
logian. He might be imprisoned, chained, burned. It 
is human nature waking up to a consciousness of its 
powers, catching a glimpse of the perfection for which 
it was made, beginning to respect itself, thirsting for 
free action and developement, learning through a deep 
consciousness that there is something diviner than forms, 
or churches, or creeds, recognising in Jesus Christ its 



324 ON CATHOLICISM. 

own celestial model, and claiming kindred with all wno 
have caught any portion of his spiritual life and disin- 
terested love ; here, here is the great enemy of Ca- 
tholicism. I look confidently to the ineradicable, ever- 
unfolding principles of human nature, for the victory 
over all superstitions. Reason and conscience, the 
powers by which we discern the true and the right, are 
immortal as their author. Oppressed for ages, they yet 
live. Like the central fires of the earth, they can 
heave up mountains. It is encouraging to see under 
what burdens and clouds they have made their way ; and 
we must remember, that, by every new developement, 
they are brought more into contact with the life-giving, 
omnipotent truth and character of Jesus Christ. It 
makes me smile, to hear immortality claimed for Catholi- 
cism or Protestantism, or for any past interpretations 
of Christianity ; as if the human soul had exhausted it- 
self in its infant efforts, or as if the men of one or a 
few generations could bind the energy of human thought 
and affection for ever. A theology at war with the 
laws of physical nature would be a battle of no doubt- 
ful issue. The laws of our spiritual nature give still 
less chance of success to the system, which would 
thwart or stay them. The progress of the individual 
and of society, which has shaken the throne of Rome, 
is not an accident, not an irregular spasmodic effort, 
but the natural movement of the soul. Catholicism 
must fall before it. In truth, it is very much fallen 
already. It exists, and will long exist as an outward 
institution. But compare the Catholicism of an intelli- 
gent man of the nineteenth century with what it was in 
the tenth. The name, the letter remain, — how chang- 
ed the spirit ! The silent reform spreading in the very 



ON CATHOLICISM. 325 

bosom of Catholicism, is as important as the refor- 
mation of the sixteenth century, and in truth more ef- 
fectual. 

Catholicism has always hoped for victory over Prot- 
estantism, on the ground of the dissensions of Protes- 
tants. But its anticipations have not approached ful- 
filment, and they show us how the most sagacious err, 
when they attempt to read futurity. I have long since 
learned to hear with composure the auguries of the 
worldy wise. The truth is, that the dissensions of Prot- 
estantism go far to constitute its strength. Through 
them its spirit, which is freedom, the only spirit which 
Rome cannot conquer, is kept alive. Had its mem- 
bers been organized, and bound into a single church, 
it would have become a despotism as unrelenting, and 
corrupt, and hopeless as Rome. But this is not all. 
Protestantism, by being broken into a great variety of 
sects, has adapted itself to the various modifications of 
human nature. Every sect has embodied religion in a 
form suited to some large class of minds. It has met 
some want, answered to some great principle of the 
soul, and thus every new denomination has been a new 
standard, under which to gather and hold fast a host 
against Rome. One of the great arts, by which Ca- 
tholicism spread and secured its dominion, was its won- 
derful flexibleness, its most skilful adaptation of itself 
to the different tastes, passions, wants of men ; and to 
this means of influence and dominion, Protestantism 
could oppose nothing, but variety of sects. I do not 
recollect, that I ever saw this feature of Catholicism 
brought out distinctly, and yet nothing in the system has 
impressed me more strongly. The Romish religion 
calls itself one, but it has a singular variety of forms 

BB 



'326 ON CATHOLICISM. 

and aspects. For the lover of forms and outward re- 
ligion, it has a gorgeous ritual. To the mere man of 
the world, it shows a pope on the throne, bishops in 
palaces, and all the splendor of earthly dominion. At 
the same time, for the self-denying, ascetic, mystical, 
and fanatical, it has all the forms of monastic life. To 
him, who would scourge himself into godliness, it offers 
a whip. For him who would starve himself into spir- 
ituality, it provides the mendicant convents of St. Fran- 
cis. For the anchorite, it prepares the death-like si- 
lence of La Trappe. To the passionate young woman, 
it presents the raptures of St. Theresa, and the mar- 
riage of St. Catharine with her Saviour. For the rest- 
less pilgrim, whose piety needs greater variety than the 
cell of the monk, it oilers shrines, tombs, relics, and 
other holy places in Christian lands, and above all, the 
holy sepulchre near Calvary. To the generous, sym- 
pathizing enthusiast, it opens some fraternity or sister- 
hood of Charity. To him, who inclines to take heaven 
by violence, it gives as much penance as he can ask ; 
and to the mass of men, who wish to reconcile the two 
worlds, it promises a purgatory, so far softened down 
by the masses of the priest and the prayers of the 
faithful, that- its fires can be anticipated without over- 
whelming dread. This composition of forces in the 
Romish Church seems to me a wonderful monument of 
skill. When, in Rome, the traveller sees by the side of 
the purple, lackeyed cardinal, the begging friar ; when, 
under the arches of St. Peter, he sees a coarsely, dress- 
ed monk holding forth to a ragged crowd ; or when, 
beneath a Franciscan church, adorned with the most 
precious works of art, he meets a charnel-house, where 
the bones of the dead brethren are built into walls, be- 



ON CATHOLICISM. 327 

tween which the living walk to read their mortality , 
he is amazed, if he gives himself time for reflection, 
at the infinite variety of machinery which Catholicism 
has brought to bear on the human mind ; at the sagaci- 
ty with which it has adapted itself to the various tastes 
and propensities of human nature. Protestantism at- 
tains this end by more simple, natural, and in the main 
more effectual ways. All the great principles of our 
nature are represented in different sects, which have 
on the whole a keener passion for self-aggrandizement 
than the various orders in the Romish Church, and thus 
men of all varieties of mind find something congenial, 
find a class to sympathize with. 

And, here, I cannot but observe, that Episcopacy 
renders good service to the Protestant cause. With- 
out being thoroughly Protestant, it is especially efficient 
against Catholicism ; and this good work it does by its 
very proximity to Rome. From the wide diffusion and 
long continuance of Catholicism, we may be sure that 
it embodies some great idea, and answers some want, 
which is early and powerfully developed in the progress 
of civilization. There is of consequence a tendency 
to Catholicism in society, though more and more re- 
strained by higher tendencies. Happily, Episcopacy 
is built on the same great idea, but expresses it in a 
more limited and rational form. It is Catholicism im- 
proved, or mother church with a lower mitre and a less 
royal air ; and by meeting the want which carries men 
to the Romish Church, stops numbers on their way to 
it. Hence, Catholicism hates Episcopacy more than- 
any other form of dissent. Sects are apt to hate each 
other in proportion to their proximity. The old prov- 
erb that two of a trade cannot agree, applies to reli- 



328 ON CATHOLICISM. 

gion as strongly as to common life. — The amount rs, 
that Catholicism derives little aid from Protestant di- 
visions. In an age as unimproved in Christianity as the 
present, these divisions are promising symptoms. They 
prevent men from settling down in a rude Christianity. 
They keep alive inquiry and zeal. They are essential 
to freedom and progress. Without these, Protestantism 
would be only a new edition of Catholicism ; and the 
old pope would certainly beat any new one who could 
be arrayed against him. 

Do you ask me, how I think Catholicism may be 
most successfully opposed ? I know but one way. 
Spread just, natural, ennobling views of religion. Lift 
men above Catholicism, by showing them the great 
spiritual purpose of Christianity. Violence will avail 
nothing. Romanism cannot be burned down, like the 
convent at Charlestown. That outrage bound eveiy 
Catholic faster to his church, and attracted to it the 
sympathies of the good. Neither is Popery to be sub- 
dued by virulence and abuse. The priest can call as 
hard names as the Protestant pastor. Neither do I 
think that any thing is to be gained by borrowing from 
the Catholic Church her forms, and similar means of 
influence. Borrowed forms are peculiarly formal. No 
sect will be benefited by forms which do not grow from 
its own spirit. A sect which has true life, will seize 
by instinct the emblems and rites, which are in accord- 
ance with itself; and, without life, it will only find in 
borrowed rites its winding-sheet. It is not uncommon 
to hear persons who visit Catholic countries, recom- 
mending the introduction of this or that usage of Ro- 
manism among ourselves. For example, they ente? 
Catholic churches and see at all hours worshippers be* 



OX CATHOLICISM. 329 

fore one or another altar, and contrasting with this the 
desertion of our houses of worship during the week, 
doubt whether we are as pious, and wish to open the 
doors of our sanctuaries, that Protestants may at all 
hours approve themselves as devoted as the Papists. 
Now such recommendations show a misconception of 
the true foundation and spirit of Roman usages. In the 
case before us, nothing is more natural than that Cath- 
olics should go to churches or public places to pray. 
In the first place, in the southern countries of Europe, 
where Catholicism first took its form, the people live in 
public. They are an outdoor people. Their domestic 
occupations go on in the outward air. That they should 
perform their private devotions in public, is in harmony 
with all their habits. What a violence it would be tc 
ours ! In the next place, the Catholic believes that 
the church has a peculiar sanctity. A prayer offered 
from its floor finds its way to heaven more easily than 
from any other spot. The pernicious superstition of 
his religion carries him to do the work of his religion 
in one consecrated place, and therefore he does it the 
less elsewhere. Again : Catholic churches are attrac- 
tive from the miraculous virtue ascribed to the images 
which are worshipped there. Strange, monstrous as 
the superstition is, yet nothing is more common in Cath- 
olic countries than the ascription of this or that super- 
natural agency to one or another shrine or statue. A 
saint, worshipped at cne place, or under one image, will 
do more, than if worshipped elsewhere. I recollect 
asking an Italian, why a certain church of rather hum- 
ble appearance, in a large city, was so much frequented. 
He smiled, and told me, that the Virgin, who was 
adored there, was thought particularly propitious to 
24 bb* 



830 ON CATHOLICISM. 

those who had bought tickets in the lottery. Ones' 
more, we can easily conceive why visiting the churches^ 
for daily prayer, has been encouraged by the priesthood * 
The usage brought the multitude still more under priest- 
ly power, and taught them to associate their most se- 
cret aspirations of piety with the church. Who, that 
takes all these circumstances into consideration, can 
expect Protestants to imitate the Catholics in frequent- 
ing the church for secret devotion, or can wish it ? 
Has not Jesus said, " When thou pray est, go into thy 
closet, and shut thy door, and pray to thy Father, who 
seeth in secret"? Catholicism says, "When thou 
prayest, go into the public church, and pray before the 
multitude." Of the little efficacy of this worship we 
have too painful proofs. The worship of the churches 
of Italy is directed chiefly to the Virgin. She is wor- 
shipped as the Virgin. The great idea of this Catho- 
lic deity is purity, chastity ; and yet, unless all travel- 
lers deceive us, the country where she is worshipped is 
disfigured by licentiousness, beyond all countries of the 
civilized world. I return to my position. We need bor- 
row nothing from Catholicism. Episcopacy retained 
(did not borrow) as much of the ritual of that church 
as is wanted in the present age, for those among us 
who have Catholic propensities. Other sects, if they 
need forms, must originate them, and this they must do 
not mechanically, but from the promptings of the spir- 
itual life, from a thirst for new modes of manifesting 
their religious hopes and aspirations. Woe to that 
church, which looks round for forms to wake it up to 
spiritual life. The dying man is not to be revived by 
a new dress, however graceful. The disease of a lan- 
guid sect is too deep to be healed by ceremonies. It 



ON CATHOLICISM. 331 

needs deeper modes of cure. Let it get life, and it will 
naturally create the emblems or rites which it needs t<r 
express and maintain its spiritual force. 

The great instrument of influence and dominion in 
the Catholic Church, is one which we should shudder 
to borrow, but which may still give important hints as 
to the means of promoting religion. I refer to Con- 
fession. Nothing too bad can be said of this. By 
laying open the secrets of all hearts to the priest, it 
makes the priest the master of all. Still, to a good 
man it gives the power of doing good, a power, which, 
I doubt not, is often conscientiously used. It gives 
to the religious teacher an access to men's minds and 
conscience, such as the p\ilpit does not furnish. In- 
stead of scattering generalities among the crowd, he 
can administer to each soul the very instruction, warn- 
ing, encouragement it needs. In Catholic countries 
there is little preaching, nor is it necessary. The con- 
fessional is far more powerful than the pulpit. And 
what do we learn from this ? That Protestants should 
adopt confession ? No. But the question arises, wheth- 
er the great principle of confession, that on which its 
power rests, viz. access to the individual mind, may 
not be used more than it is by Protestant teachers ; 
whether such access may not be gained by honorable 
and generous means, and so used as to be guarded 
against abuse. Preaching is now our chief reliance ; 
but preaching is an arrow which shoots over many 
heads, and flies wide of the hearts of more. Its aim is 
too vague to do much execution. It is melancholy to 
think how little clear knowledge on the subject of duty 
and religion, is communicated by the pulpit, and how 
often the emotion which it excites, for want of clear 



662 ON CATHOLICISM. 

views, for want of wisdom, runs into morbidness or 
excess. No art, no science is taught so vaguely as 
religion from the pulpit. No book is so read or ex- 
pounded as the Bible is, that, is, in minute fragments, 
and without those helps of method, by which all other 
branches are taught. Is not a freer, easier, opener com- 
munication with his pupils needed, than the minister 
does or can hold from the pulpit ? Should not modes 
of teaching and intercourse be adopted, by which he 
can administer truth to different minds, according to 
their various capacities and wants. Must not he rely 
less on preaching, and more on more familiar com- 
munication. 

This question becomes of/ more importance, because 
it is very plain that preaching is becoming less and less 
efficacious. Preaching is not what it was in the first 
age of Christianity. * Then, when there was no print- 
ing, comparatively no reading, Christianity could only be 
spread by the living voice. Hence to preach became 
synonymous with teaching. It was the great means of 
access to the multitude. Now the press preaches in- 
comparably more than the pulpit. Through this, all 
are permitted to preach. Woman, if she may not 
speak in the church, may speak from the printing room, 
and her touching expositions of religion, not learned in 
theological institutions, but in the schools of affection, 
of sorrow, of experience, of domestic change, some- 
times make their w r ay to the heart more surely than the 
minister's homilies. The result is, that preaching does 
not hold the place now, which it had in dark and unre- 
fined ages. The minister addresses from his pulpit 
many as well educated as himself, and almost every 
parishioner has at home better sermons than he hear^ 



ON CATHOLICISM. 333 

in public. The minister, too, has competitors in the 
laity, as they are called, who very wisely refuse to 
leave to him the monopoly of public speaking, and who 
are encroaching on his province more and more. In 
this altered condition of the world, the ministry is to 
undergo important changes. What they must be, I 
have not time now to inquire. I will only say, that the 
vagueness which belongs to so much religious instruction 
from the pulpit, must give place to a teaching which 
shall meet more the wants of the individual, and the 
wants of the present state of society. Great principles 
must be expounded in accommodation to different ages, 
capacities, stages of improvement, and an intercourse 
be established by which all classes may be helped to ap- 
ply them to their own particular conditions. How shall 
Christianity be brought to bear on the individual, and 
on society at the present moment, in its present strug- 
gles ? This is the great question to be solved, and the 
reply to it will determine the form which the Christian 
ministry is to take. I imagine, that in seeking the solu- 
tion of this problem, it will be discovered, that the 
ministry must have greater freedom than in past times. 
It will be discovered, that the individual minister must 
not be rigidly tied down to certain established modes of 
operation, that he must not be required to cast his 
preaching into the old mould, to circumscribe himself 
to the old topics, to keep in motion a machinery which 
others have invented, but that he will do most good if 
left to work according to his own nature, according to 
the promptings of the Holy Spirit within his own breast. 
I imagine it will be discovered, that, as justice may be 
administered without a wig, and the executive function 
without a crown or sceptre, so Christianity may be 
24* 



664: ON CATHOLICISM. 

administered in more natural and less formal ways than 
have prevailed, and that the minister, in growing less 
technical, will find religion becoming, to himself and oth- 
ers, a more living reality. I imagine, that our present 
religious organizations will silently melt away, and that 
hierarchies will be found no more necessary for religion 
than for literature, science, medicine, law, or the ele- 
gant and useful arts. But I will check these imagin- 
ings. The point from which I started was > that Ca- 
tholicism might teach us one element of an effectual min- 
istry, that the Protestant teacher needs and should seek 
access to the individual mind, beyond what he new 
possesses ; and the point at which I stop is, that this 
access is to be so sought and so used, as not to in- 
fringe religious liberty, the rights of private judgment, 
the free action of the individual mind. Nothing but 
this liberty can secure it from the terrible abuse to 
which it has been exposed in the Catholic Church. 

In the free remarks, which I have now made on 
certain denominations of Christians, I have been in- 
fluenced by no unkindness cr disrespect towards the 
individuals who compose them. In all sects I recog- 
nise joyfully true disciples of the common Master. 
Catholicism boasts of some of the best and greatest 
names in history, so does Episcopacy, so Presbyteri- 
anism, &c. I exclude none. I kno\v that Christianity 
is mighty enough to accomplish its end in all. I cannot 
however speak of religious, any more than of political 
parties, without betraying the little respect I have for 
them as parties. There is no portion of human history 
more humbling than that of sects. When I meditate 
on the grand moral, spiritual purpose of Christianity, 
in which all its glory consists ; when I consider how 



QJN CATHOLICISM. 335 

plainly Christianity attaches importance to nothing but 
to the moral excellence, the disinterested, divine virtue, 
which was embodied in the teaching and life of its' 
founder ; and when from this position I look down on 
the sects which have figured, and now v figure' in the 
church ; when I see them making such a stir about 
matters generally so unessential ; when I see them seiz- 
ing on a disputed and disputable doctrine, making it a 
watch- word, a test of God's favor-, a bond of com- 
munion, a ground of self-complacency, a badge of pe- 
culiar holiness, a warrant for condemning its rejectors, 
how r ever imbued with the spirit of Christ ; when I see 
them overlooking the weightier matters of the law, and 
laying infinite stress here on a bishop and prayer-book, 
there on the quantity of water applied in baptism, and 
there on some dark solution of an incomprehensible 
article of faith ; when I see the mock dignity of their 
exclusive claims to truth, to churchship, to the prom- 
ises of God's word ; when 1 hear the mimic thunder- 
bolts of denunciation and excommunication, which they 
delight to 'hurl ; when I consider how their deep theol- 
ogy, in proportion as it is examined, evaporates into 
words, how many opposite and extravagant notions are 
covered by the same broad shield of mystery and tradi- 
tion, and how commonly the persuasion of infallibility 
is proportioned to the absurdity of the creed ; when I 
consider these things, and other matters of like import, 
I am lost in amazement at the amount of arrogant (o]ly, 
of self-complacent intolerance, of almost incredible blind- 
ness to the end and essence of Christianity, which the 
history of sects reveals. I have indeed profound re- 
spect for individuals in all communions of Christians. 
But on sects, and on the spirit of sects, I must be 



336 ON CATHOLICISM. 

allowed to look with grief, shame, pity, I had almost 
said, contempt. In passing these censures, I claim no 
superiority. I am sure there are thousands of all sects, 
who think and feel as I do in this particular, and who> 
far from claiming superior intelligence, are distinguished 
by following out the plain dictates, the natural impulses, 
and spontaneous judgments of conscience and common 
sense. 

It is time for me to finish this letter, which indeed 
has grown under my hands beyond all reasonable bounds. 
But I must add a line or two in reply to your invitation 
to visit you. You say, that Kentucky will not exclude 
me for my opinions on slavery. I rejoice to hear it, 
not for my own sake, but for the sake of the country. 
I rejoice in a tolerant spirit, wherever manifested. 
What you say accords with what I have heard, of the 
frank, liberal character of Kentucky. All our accounts 
of the West make me desire to visit it. I desire to see 
nature under new aspects ; but still more to see a new 
form of society. I hear of the defects of the West ; 
but I learn that a man there feels himself to be a man, 
that he has a self-respect which is not always to be found 
in older communities, that he speaks his mind freely, 
that he acts more from generous impulses, and less from 
selfish calculations. These are good tidings. I re- 
joice that the intercourse between the East and West 
is increasing. Both will profit. The West may learn 
from us the love of order, the arts which adorn and 
cheer life, the institutions of education and religion, 
which lie at the foundation of our greatness, and may 
give us in return the energies and virtues which belong 
to and distinguish a fresher state of society. Such ex- 



ON CATHOLICISM. 337 

changes I regard as the most precious fruits of the 
Union, worth more than exchanges of products of in- 
dustry, and they will do more to bind us together as 
one people. 

You press me to come and preach in your part of 
the country. I should do it cheerfully if I could. It 
would rejoice me to bear a testimony, however feeble, 
to great truths in your new settlements. I confess, 
however, that I fear, that my education would unfit 
me for great usefulness among you. I fear that the 
habits, rules, and criticisms, under which I have grown 
up, and almost grown old, have not left me the freedom 
and courage which are needed in the style of address 
best suited to the Western people. I have fought 
against these chains. I have labored to be a free man, 
but in the state of the ministry and of society here, 
freedom is a hard acquisition. I hope the rising gen* 
eration will gain it more easily and abundantly than their 
fathers. 

I have only to add, my young brother, my best wishes 
for your usefulness. I do not ask for you enjoyment. 
I ask for you something better and greater, something 
which includes it, even a spirit to live and die for a 
cause, which is dearer than your own enjoyment. If 
I were called to give you one rule, which your situation 
demands above all others, it would be this. Live a life 
of faith and hope. Believe in God's great purposes to- 
wards the human race. Believe in the mighty power of 
truth and love. Believe in the omnipotence of Chris- 
tianity. Believe that Christ lived and died to breathe 
into his church and into society a diviner spirit than 
now exists. Believe in the capacities and greatness of 
human nature. Believe that the celestial virtue, re- 
cc 



33S ON CATHOLICISM. 

vealed in the life and teaching of Jesus Christ, is not 
a bright vision for barren admiration, but is to become 
a reality in your own and others' souls. Carry to your 
work a trustful spirit. Do not waste your breath in 
wailing over the times. Strive to make them better. Do 
not be disheartened by evils. Feel through your whole 
soul, that evil is not the mightiest power in the uni- 
verse, that it is permitted only to call forth the energy 
of love, wisdom, persuasion, and prayer for its remov- 
al. Settle it in your mind, that a minister can never 
speak an effectual word without- faith. Be strong in the 
Lord and the power of his might. Allow me to say, 
that I have a good hope of you. I learned some time 
ago, from one of your dear friends, that you compre- 
hended the grandeur of your work as a Christian minis- 
ter. I learned that the pulpit, from which a divinely 
moved teacher communicates everlasting truths, seemed 
to you more glorious than a throne. I learned, that 
you had come to understand what is the greatest power 
which God gives to mfen, the power of acting gener- 
ously on the soul of his brother ; of communicating to 
others a divine spirit, of awakening in others a heavenly 
life, which is to outlive the stars. I then felt that you 
would not labor in vain. You have indeed peculiar 
trials. You are, dwelling far from your brethren, but 
there is a sense of God's presence more cheering than 
the dearest human society. There is a consciousness 
of working with God^ more strengthening than all hu- 
man cooperation. There is a sight, granted to the 
pure mind, of the cross of Christ, which makes pri- 
vations and sufferings in the cause of his truth seem 
light, which makes us sometimes to rejoice in tribula- 
tion, like the primitive heroes of our faith. My young 



ON CATHOLICISM. 339 

brother, I wish you these blessings. What else ought 
I to wish for you ? 

This letter, you will perceive, is written in great 
haste. The opinions indeed have been deliberately 
formed ; but they probably might have been expressed 
with greater caution. If it will serve, in .your judg- 
ment, the cause of truth, freedom, and religion, you 
are at liberty to insert it in your work. 

Your sincere friend, 

William E. C banning. 



EXTRACTS FROM A LETTER 



CREEDS, 



25 



ON CREEDS 



My aversion to human creeds as bonds of Christian 
union, as conditions of Christian fellowship, as means 
of fastening chains on men's minds, constantly gains 
strength. 

My first objection to them is, that they separate us 
from Jesus Christ. To whom am I to go for my 
knowledge of the Christian religion, but to the Great 
Teacher, to the Son of God, to him in whom the ful- 
ness of the divinity dwelt. This is my great privilege 
as a Christian, that I may sit at the feet not of a human 
but divine master, that I may repair to him in whom 
truth lived and spoke without a mixture of error ; who 
was eminently the Wisdom of God and the light of the 
world. And shall man dare to interpose between me 
and my heavenly guide and Saviour, and prescribe to 
me the articles of my Christian faith ? What is the 
state of mind in which I shall best learn the truth ? It 
is that, in which I forsake all other teachers for Christ, 
in which my mind is brought nearest to him ; it is that 
in which I lay myself open most entirely to the impres- 
sions of his mind. Let me go to Jesus with a human 
voice sounding in my ears, and telling me what I must 



344 ON CREEDS. 

hear from the Great Teacher, and how can I listen to 
him in singleness of heart ? All Protestant sects in- 
deed tell the learner to listen to Jesus Christ ; but most 
of them shout around him their own articles so vehe- 
mently and imperiously, that the voice of the heavenly 
master is well nigh drowned. He is told to listen to 
Christ, but told that he will be damned, if he receives 
any lessons but such as are taught in the creed. He 
is told that Christ's word is alone infallible, but that 
unless it is received as interpreted by fallible men, he 
will be excluded from the ..communion of Christians. 
This is what shocks me in the creed-maker. He inter- 
poses himself between me and my Saviour. He dares 
not trust me alone with Jesus. He dares not leave 
me to the word of God. This I cannot endure. The 
nearest possible communication with the mind of Christ, 
is my great privilege as a Christian. I must learn 
Christ's truth from Christ himself, as he speaks in the 
records of his life, and in the men whom he trained 
up and supernaturally prepared to be his witnesses to 
the world. On what ground, I ask, do the creed-makers 
demand assent to their articles as condition of church 
membership or salvation ? What has conferred on them 
infallibility? " Show me your proofs," I say to them, 
" of Christ speaking in you. Work some miracle. 
CJtter some prophecy.. Show me something divine in 
you, which other men do not possess. Is it possible, 
that you are unaided men, like myself, having no more 
right to interpret the New Testament than myself, and 
that you yet exalt your interpretations as infallible stand- 
ards of truth, and the necessary conditions of salva- 
tion. Stand out of my path. I wish to go to tfefl 
master. Have you words of greater power than his ? 



ON CREEDS. 345 

Can you speak to the human conscience or heart in a 
mightier voice than he ? What is it which emboldens 
you to tell me what I must learn of Christ or be 
lost ? » 

I cannot but look on human creeds with feelings ap- 
proaching contempt. When I bring them into contrast 
with the New Testament, into what insignificance do 
they sink ! What are they ? Skeletons, freezing ab- 
stractions, metaphysical expressions of unintelligible dog- 
mas ; and these I am to regard as the expositions of the 
fresh, living, infinite truth which came from Jesus ! I 
might with equal propriety be required to hear and re- 
ceive the lispings of infancy as the expressions of wis- 
dom. Creeds are to the Scriptures, what rush-lights 
are to the sun. The creed-maker defines Jesus in half 
a dozen lines, perhaps in metaphysical terms, and calls 
me to assent to this account of my Saviour. I learn 
less of Christ by this process, than I should learn of 
the sun, by being told that this glorious luminary is a 
circle about a foot in diameter. There is but one way 
of knowing Christ. We must place ourselves near him, 
see him, hear him, follow him from his cross to the 
heavens, sympathize with him and obey him, and thus 
catch clear and bright glimpses of his divine glory. 

Christian Truth is Infinite. Who can think of shut- 
ting it up in a few lines of an abstract creed ? You 
might as well compress the boundless atmosphere, the 
fire, the all-pervading light, the free winds of the uni- 
verse, into separate parcels, and weigh and label them, 
as break up Christianity into a few propositions. Chris- 
tianity 'is freer, more illimitable, than the light or the 
winds. It is too mighty to be bound down by man's 
puny hands. It is a spirit rather than a rigid doctrine, 
25* 



346 



ON 



the spirit of boundless love. The Infinite cannot be 
defined and measured out like a human manufacture. 
It cannot be reduced to a system. It cannot be com- 
prehended in a set of precise ideas. It is to be felt 
rather than described. The spiritual impressions which 
a true Christian receives from the character and teach- 
ings of Christ, and in which the chief efficacy of the re- 
ligion lies, can be poorly brought out in words. Words 
are but brief, rude hints of a Christian's mind. His 
thoughts and feelings overflow them. To those who 
feel as he does, he can make himself known ; for such 
can understand the tones of the heart ; but he can no 
more lay dcwn his religion in a series of abstract propo- 
sitions, than he can make known in a few vague terms 
me expressive features and inmost soul of a much-loved 
friend. It has been the fault of all sects, that they 
have been too anxious to define their religion. They 
have labored to circumscribe the infinite. Christianity, 
as it exists in the mind of the true disciple, is not made 
up of fragments, of separate ideas which he can ex- 
press in detached propositions. It is a vast and ever- 
unfolding whole, pervaded by one spirit, each precept 
and doctrine deriving its vitality from its union with 
all. When I see this generous, heavenly doctrine com- 
pressed and cramped in human creeds, I feel as I 
should were I to see screws and chains applied to the 
countenance and limbs of a noble fellow-creature, de- 
forming and destroying one of the most beautiful works 
of God. 

From the Infinity of Christian truth, of which I have 
spoken, it follows that our views of it must always be 
very imperfect, and ought to be continually enlarged. 
The wisest theologians are children who have caught 



OJN CREEDS. 347 

but faint glimpses of the religion ; who have taken 'but 
their first lessons; and whose business it is cc to grow 
in the knowledge of Jesus Christ." Need I say how 
hostile to this growth is a fixed creed, beyond which 
we must never wander ? Such a religion as ChrisVs 
demands the highest possible activity and freedom ox 
the soul. Every new gleam of light should be welcom- 
ed with joy. Every hint should be followed cut with 
eagerness. Every whisper of the divine voice in the 
soul should be heard. The love of Christian truth 
should be so intense, as to make us willing to part with 
all other things for a better comprehension of it. Who 
does not see that human creeds, setting bounds to 
thought, and telling us where all inquiry must stop, 
tend to repress this holy zeal, to shut our eyes on new 
illumination, to hem us within the beaten paths of man's 
construction, to arrest that perpetual progress which 
is the life and glory of an immortal mind. 

It is another and great objection to creeds, that, wher- 
ever they acquire authority, they interfere with that sim- 
plicity and godly sincerity, on which the efficacy of re- 
ligious teaching very much depends. That a minister 
should speak with power, it is important that he should 
speak from his own soul, and not studiously conform 
himself to modes of speaking which others have adopt- 
ed. It is important that he should give out the truth 
in the very form in which it presents itself to his mind, 
in the very words which offer themselves spontaneously 
as the clothing of his thoughts. To express our own 
minds frankly, directly, fearlessly, is the way to reach 
other minds. Now it is the effect of creeds to check 
this free utterance of thought. The minister must seek 
words which will not clash with the consecrated arti- 



348 ON CREEDS. 

cles of his church. If new ideas spring up in his mind, 
not altogether consonant with what the creed-monger has 
established, he must cover them with misty language. 
If he happen to doubt the standard of his church, 
he must strain its phraseology, must force it beyond 
its obvious import, that he may give his assent to it 
without departures from truth. All these processes 
must have a blighting effect on the mind and heart. 
They impair self-respect. They cloud the intellectual 
eye. They accustom men to tamper with truth. In 
proportion as a man dilutes his thought and suppresses 
his conviction, to save his orthodoxy from suspicion ; 
in proportion as he borrows his words from others, in^ 
stead of speaking in his own tongue ; in proportion as 
he distorts language from its common use, that he may 
stand well with his party ; in that proportion he clouds 
and degrades his intellect, as well as undermines the 
manliness and integrity of his character. How deeply 
do I commiserate the minister, who, in the warmth and 
freshness of youth, is visited with glimpses of higher 
truth than is embodied in the creed, but who dares not 
be just to himself, and is made to echo what is not the 
simple, natural expression of his own mind ! Better 
were it for us to beg our bread and clothe ourselves in 
rags, than to part with Christian simplicity and frank- 
ness. Better for a minister to preach in barns or the 
open air, where he may speak the truth from the ful- 
ness of his soul, than to lift up in cathedrals, amidst 
pomp and wealth, a voice which is not true to his in- 
ward thoughts. If they who wear the chains of creeds, 
once knew the happiness of breathing the air of free- 
dom, and of moving with an unincumbered spirit, no 



ON CREEDS. 349 

wealth or power in the' world's gift would bribe them to 
part with their spiritual liberty. 

Another sad effect of creeds is, that they favor un- 
belief. It is not the object of a creed to express the 
simple truths of our religion, though in these its efficien- 
cy chiefly lies, but to embody and decree those myste- 
ries about which Christians have been contending. I use 
the word "mysteries," not in the Scriptural but popular 
sense, as meaning doctrines which give a shock to the 
reason and seem to contradict some acknowledged truth. 
Such mysteries are the staples of creeds. The celestial 
virtues of Christ's character, these are not inserted into 
articles of faith. On the contrary, doctrines which from 
their darkness or unintelligibleness have provoked con- 
troversy, and which owe their importance very much to 
the circumstance of having been fought for or fought 
against for ages, these are thrown by the creed-makers 
into the foremost ranks of the religion, and made its 
especial representatives. Christianity as set forth in 
creeds is a propounder of dark sayings, of riddles, of 
knotty propositions, of apparent contradictions. Who, 
on reading these standards, would catch a glimpse of the 
simple, pure, benevolent, practical character of Christi- 
anity ? And what is the result ? Christianity becoming 
identified, by means of creeds, with so many dark doc- 
trines, is looked on by many as a subject for theologians 
to quarrel about, but too thorny or perplexed for com- 
mon minds, while it is spurned by many more as an 
insult on human reason, as a triumph of fanaticism over 
common sense. 

It is a little remarkable that most creeds, whilst they 
abound in mysteries of human creation, have renounced 
the great mystery of religion. There is in religion a 

DD 



350 ON CREEDS. 

great mystery. I refer to the vdoctrine of Free-will or 
moral liberty. How to reconcile this with God's fore- 
knowledge and human dependence, is a question which 
has perplexed the greatest minds. It is probable that 
much of the obscurity arises from our applying to God 
the same kind of foreknowledge as men possess by their 
acquaintance with causes, and from our supposing the 
Supreme Being to bear the same relation to time as 
man. It is probable that juster views on these subjects 
will relieve the freedom of the will from some of its 
difficulties. Still the difficulties attending it are great. 
It is a mystery in the popular sense of die word. Now 
is it not strange that theologians who have made and 
swallowed so many other mysteries, have generally re- 
jected this, and rejected it on the ground of objections 
less formidable than those which may be urged against 
their own inventions ? A large part of the Protestant 
world have sacrificed man's freedom of will to God's 
foreknowledge and sovereignty,, thus virtually subverting 
all religion, all duty, all responsibility. They have made 
man a machine, and destroyed the great distinction be- 
tween him and the brute. There seems a fatality attend- 
ing creeds. After burdening Christianity with mysteries 
of which it is as innocent as the unborn child, they have 
generally renounced the real mystery of religion, of 
human nature. They have subverted the foundation 
of moral government, by taking from man the only ca- 
pacity which makes him responsible, and in this way 
have fixed on the commands and threatenings of God 
the character of a cruel despotism. What a lesson 
against man's" attempting to impose his wisdom on his 
fellow-creatures as the truth of God ! 



THE CHURCH. 

A DISCOURSE 

DELIVERED IN THE 

FIRST CONGREGATIONAL UNITARIAN CHURCH OF PHILADELPHIA, 
Sunday, May 30, 1841. 



DISCOURSE ON THE CHURCH. 



Matthew vii. 21 -27 : " Not every one that saith unto me, Lord, 
Lord, shall enter into the kingdom of heaven ; but he that doeth 
the will of my Father which is in heaven. Many will say to 
me in that day, Lord, Lord, have we not prophesied in thy 
name? and in thy name have cast out devils?- and in thy name 
done many wonderful works? And then will I profess unto 
them, I never knew you ; depart from me, ye that work iniquity. 

Therefore, whosoever heareth these sayings of mine, and doeth 
them, I will liken him unto a wise man, which built his house 
upon a rock ; and the rain descended, and the floods came, and 
the winds blew, and beat upon that house, and it fell not ; for it 
was founded upon a rock. 

And every one that heareth these sayings of mine, and doeth them 
not, shall be likened unto a foolish man, which built his house 
upon the sand ; and the rain descended, and the floods came, and 
the winds blew, and beat upon that house, and it fell ; and great 
was the fall of it." 

These words, which form the conclusion of Christ's 
Sermon on the Mount, teach a great truth, namely, 
that there is but one thing essential in religion, and this 
is, the doing of God's will, the doing of those sayings 
or precepts of Christ which constitute the substance of 
that memorable discourse. We learn that it will avail 
us nothing to call Christ, Lord, Lord, to profess our- 
-selves his disciples, to hear his words, to teach in his 
name, to take our place in his church, or even to do 
16* DD* 



354 THE CHURCH. 

wonderful works or miracles in attestation of his truth, if 
we neglect to cherish the spirit and virtues of his re- 
ligion. God heeds not what we say, hut what we are, 
and what we do. The subjection of our wills to the 
Divine, the mortification of sensual and selfish propen- 
sities, the cultivation of supreme love to God, and of 
universal justice and charity towards our neighbour, 
— this, this is the very essence of religion ; this alone 
places us on a rock ; this is the end, the supreme and 
ultimate good, and is to be prized and sought above all 
other things. 

This is a truth as simple as it is grand. The child 
can understand it ; and yet men, in all ages, have con- 
trived to overlook it ; have contrived to find substitutes 
for purity of heart and life ; have hoped by some other 
means to commend themselves to God, to enter the 
kingdom of heaven. Forms, creeds, churches, the 
priesthood, the sacraments, these and other things have 
been exalted into supremacy. The grand and only 
qualification for heaven, that which in itself is heaven, 
the virtue and the spirit of Jesus Christ, has been ob- 
scured, depreciated ; whilst assent to certain mysteries, 
or union with certain churches, has been thought the 
narrow way that leads to life. I have not time in a 
single discourse to expose all the delusions which have 
spread on this subject. I shall confine myself to one, 
which is not limited to the past, but too rife in our own 
times. 

There has always existed, and still exists, a dispo- 
sition to attach undue importance to "the church'' 
which a man belongs to. To be a member of " the 
true church" has been insisted on as essential to hu-' 
man salvation. Multitudes have sought comfort, and not 



THE CHURCH. 355 

seldom found their ruin, in the notion, that they were em- 
braced in the motherly arms of " the true church" ; for 
with this they have been satisfied. Professed Chris- 
tians have fought about u the church" as if it were a 
matter of life and death. The Roman Catholic shuts 
the gate of heaven on you because you will not enter his 
"church." Among the Protestants are those who tell 
you that the promises of Christianity do not belong to 
you, be your character what it may, unless you receive 
the Christian ordinances from the ministers of their 
" church." Salvation is made to flow through a certain 
priesthood, through an hereditary order, through par- 
ticular rites administered by consecrated functionaries. 
Even among denominations in which such exclusive 
claims are not set up you will still meet the idea, that a 
man is safer in their particular " church " than else- 
where ; so that something distinct from Christian purity 
of heart and life is made the way of salvation. 

This error I wish to expose. I wish to show that 
Christ's spirit, Christ's virtue, or u the doing of the 
Sermon on the Mount," is the great end of our religion, 
the only essential thing, and that all other things are im- 
portant only as ministering to this. I know, indeed, that 
very many acknowledge the doctrine now expressed. 
But too often their conviction is not deep and living, and 
it is impaired by superstitious notions of some mysterious 
saving influence in "the church," or in some other 
foreign agency. To meet these erroneous tendencies, I 
shall not undertake to prove in a formal way, by logical 
process, the supreme importance, blessedness, and glory 
of righteousness, of sanctity, of love towards God and 
man, or to prove that nothing else is indispensable. This 
truth shines by its own light. It runs through the whole 



356 THE CHURCH. 

New Testament ; and is a gospel written in the soul by 
a divine hand. To vindicate it against the claims set up 
for "the church," nothing is needed but to offer a few 
plain remarks in the order in which they rise up of them- 
selves to my mind. 

I begin with the remark, that in the Sermon on the 
Mount Jesus said nothing about the " church " ; nor do 
we find him, or his disciples, laying down anywhere a 
definite plan for its organization, or a ritual for its wor- 
ship. Nor ought this to surprise us. It was the very 
thing to be expected in such a religion as Christianity. 
Judaism was intended to educate a particular nation, 
half civilized and surrounded with the grossest idolatry, 
and accordingly it hedged them in by multiplied and rigid 
forms. But Christianity proposes, as its grand aim, to 
spread the inward, spiritual worship of God through all 
nations, in all stages of society, under all varieties of 
climate, government, and condition ; and such a religion 
cannot be expected to confine itself to any particular 
outward shape. Especially when we consider that it is 
destined to endure through all ages, to act on all, to 
blend itself with new forms of society and with the high- 
est improvements of the race, it cannot be expected to 
ordain an immutable mode of administration, but must 
leave its modes of worship and communion to con- 
form themselves silently and gradually to the wants and 
progress of humanity. The rites and arrangements which 
suit one period lose their significance or efficiency in 
another. The forms which minister to the mind now 
may fetter it hereafter, and must give place to its free 
unfolding. A system wanting this freedom and flexible- 
ness would carry strong proof in itself of not having been 
intended for universality. It is one proof of Christ's 



THE CHURCH. 357 

having come to " inherit all nations," that he did not in- 

. stitute for all nations and all times a precise machinery 
of forms and outward rules, that he entered into no mi- 
nute legislation as to the worship and government of his 
church, but left these outward concerns to be swayed, by 
the spirit and progress of successive ages. Of conse- 
quence, no particular order of the church can be essen- 
tial to salvation. No church can pretend that its consti- 
tution is defined and ordained in the Scriptures so plainly 
and undeniably that whoever forsakes it gives palpable 
proof of a spirit of disobedience to God. All churches 
are embraced by their members with equal religious 
reverence, and this assures us that in all God's favor 
may be equally obtained. 

It is worthy of remark, that, from the necessity of 
the case, the church assumed at first a form which it 
could not long retain. It was governed by the apostles 
who had founded it, men who had known Christ per- 
sonally, and received his truth from his lips, and witnessed 
his resurrection, and were enriched above all men by the 
miraculous illuminations and aids of his Spirit. These 
presided over the church with an authority peculiar to 
themselves, and to which none after them could with any 
reason pretend. They understood "the mind of Christ " 
as none could do but those who had enjoyed so long and 
close an intimacy with him ; and not only were they 
sent forth with miraculous powers, but, by imposition of 
their hands, similar gifts of the Spirit were conferred on 
others. This presence of inspired apostles and super- 
natural powers gave to the primitive church obvious and 
important distinctions, separating it widely from the form 
which it was afterwards to assume. Of this we have a 
remarkable proof in a passage of Paul, in which he sets 



358 THE CHURCH. 

before us the offices or functions exercised in the origi- 
nal church. " God hath set in the church apostles, 
prophets, teachers,, miracles, gifts of healings, helps, 
governments, diversities of tongues." * Now of all these 
endowments or offices, one only, that of teacher, re- 
mains in our day. The apostles, the founders and he- 
roes of the primitive church, with their peculiar powers, 
have vanished, leaving as their representatives their writ- 
ings, to be studied alike by all. Teachers remain, not 
because they existed in the first age, but because their 
office, from its nature, and from the condition of human 
nature, is needed still. The office, however, has under- 
gone an important change. At first the Christian teach- 
er enjoyed immediate communication with the apostles, 
and received miraculous aids, and thus enjoyed means 
of knowledge possessed by none of his successors. 
The Christian minister now can only approach the apos- 
tles as other men do, that is, through the Gospels and 
Epistles which they have left us ; and he has no other 
aid from above in interpreting them than every true 
Christian enjoys. The promise of the Holy Spirit, 
that greatest of promises, is made without distinction to 
every man, of every office or rank, who perseveringiy 
implores the Divine help ; and this establishes an essen- 
tial equality among all. Whether teachers are to con- 
tinue in the brighter ages which prophecy announces is 
rendered doubtful by a very striking prediction of the 
times of the Messiah. " After those days," saith the 
Lord, u I will put my law in their inward parts, and 
write it in their hearts, and will be their God, and they 
shall be my people. And they shall teach no more 
every man his neighbour, and every man his brother, 

* 1 Cor. sii. 28. 



THE CHURCH. 359 

saying, l Know the Lord ; ' for they shall all know me, 
from the least of them unto the greatest of them." * Is 
it possible that any man, with a clear comprehension of 
the peculiarity of the primitive church, can look back to 
this as an immutable form and rule, can regard any church 
form as essential to salvation, can ascribe to outward or- 
dinances, so necessarily fluctuating, an importance to be 
compared with that which belongs to the immutable, 
everlasting distinctions of holiness and virtue ? 

The church as at first constituted presents interesting 
and beautiful aspects. It was not a forced and arbi- 
trary, but free, spontaneous union. It grew out of the 
principles and feelings of human nature. Our nature is 
social. We cannot live alone. We cannot shut up any 
great feeling in our hearts. We seek for others to par- 
take it with us. The full soul finds at once relief and 
strength in sympathy. This is especially true in relig- 
ion, the most social of ail our sentiments, the only uni- 
versal bond on earth. In this law of our nature the 
Christian church had its origin. Christ did not establish 
it in a formal way. If you consult the New Testament, 
you do not find Jesus or his apostles setting about the 
task of forming an artificial organization of the first dis- 
ciples. Read in the book of Acts the simple, touch- 
ing narratives of the union of the first converts. They 
" were of one heart and of one soul." They could not 
be kept asunder. The new truth melted them into one 
mass, knit them into one body. In their mutual love 
they could not withhold from one another their posses- 
sions, but had all things in common. Blessed unity ! a 
type of that oneness and harmony which a purer Chris- 
tianity is to spread through all nations. Among those 

* Jeremiab 7 xxxi. 33 ; 34. 



360 THE CHURCH. 

early converts the most gifted and enlightened were 
chosen to be teachers in public assemblies. To these 
assemblies the brotherhood repaired with eagerness, to 
hear expositions of the new faith, to strengthen one 
another's loyalty to Christ, and to be open witnesses of 
him in the world. In their meetings they were left very 
much to follow the usages of the synagogue, in which 
they had been brought up ; so little did Christianity 
trouble itself about forms. How simple, how natural 
this association ! It is no mystery. It grew out of the 
plainest wants of the human heart. The religious sen- 
timent, the spirit of love towards God and man, awak- 
ened afresh by Christ, craved for a new union through 
which to find utterance and strength. And shall this 
church union, the growth of the Christian spirit, and so 
plainly subordinate to it, usurp its place, or in any way 
detract from its sole sufficiency, from its supreme, un- 
rivalled glory ? 

The church, according to its true idea and purpose, 
is an association of sincere, genuine followers of Christ; 
and at first this idea was in a good degree realized. 
The primitive disciples were drawn to Christ by con- 
viction. They met together and confessed him, not 
from usage, fashion, or education, but in opposition to 
all these. In that age, profession and practice, the form 
and the spirit, the reality and the outward signs of re- 
ligion went together. But with the growth of the church 
its life declined ; its great idea was obscured ; the name 
remained, and sometimes little more than the name. It 
is a remarkable fact, that the very spirit to which Chris- 
tianity is most hostile, the passion for power, dominion, 
pomp, and preeminence, struck its deepest roots in the 
church. The church became the very stronghold of 



THE CHURCH. 361 

the lusts and vices which Christianity most abhors. Ac- 
cordingly its history is one of the most melancholy rec- 
ords of past times. It is sad enough to read the blood- 
stained annals of worldly empires ; but when we see the 
spiritual kingdom of Christ a prey for ages to usurping 
popes, prelates, or sectarian chiefs, inflamed with big- 
otry and theological hate and the lust of rule, and driven 
by these fires of hell to grasp the temporal sword, to 
persecute, torture, imprison, butcher their brethren, to 
mix with and embitter national wars, and to convulse the 
whole Christian world, we experience a deeper gloom, 
and are more tempted to despair of our race. History 
has not a darker page than that which records the perse- 
cutions of the Albigenses, or the horrors of the Inqui- 
sition. And when we come to later times, the church 
wears any thing rather than " Holiness " inscribed on 
her front. How melancholy to a Christian, the history 
lately given us by Ranke of the reaction of Catholicism 
against Protestantism ! Throughout we see the eccle- 
siastical powers resorting to force as the grand instru- 
ment of conversion ; thus proving their alliance, not 
with heaven, but with earth and hell. If we take broad 
views of the church in any age or land, how seldom do 
we see the prevalence of true sanctity ! How many of 
its ministers preach for lucre or display, preach what 
they do not believe, or deny their doctrines in their 
lives ! How many congregations are there, made up in 
a great degree of worldly men and women, who repair 
to the house of God from usage, or for propriety's sak£, 
or from a vague notion of being saved ; not from thirst 
for the Divine Spirit, not from a fulness of heart which 
longs to pour itself forth in prayer and praise ! Such 
is the church. We are apt, indeed, to make it an ab- 
ee 17 



362 THE CHURCH. 

straction, or to separate it in our thoughts from the in- 
dividuals who compose it ; and thus it becomes to us a 
holy thing, and we ascribe to it. strange powers. Theo- 
logians speak of it as a unity, a mighty whole, one and 
the same in all ages ; and in this way the imagination is 
cheated into the idea of its marvellous sanctity and gran- 
deur. But we must separate between the theory or the 
purpose of the church and its actual state. When we 
come down to facts, we see it to be, not a mysterious, 
fmmutable unity, but a collection of fluctuating, divided, 
warring individuals, who bring into it, too often, hearts 
and hands any thing but pure. Painful as it is, we must 
see things as they are ; and so doing, we cannot but be 
struck with the infinite absurdity of ascribing to such a 
church mysterious powers, of supposing that it can con- 
fer holiness on its members, or that the circumstance 
of being joined to it is of the least moment in compar- 
ison with purity of heart and life. 

Purity of heart and life, Christ's spirit of love towards 
God and man ; this is all in all. This is the only es- 
sential thing. The church is important only as it min- 
isters to this ; and every church which so ministers is a 
good one, no matter how, when, or where it grew up, 
no matter whether it worship on its knees or on its feet, 
or whether its ministers are ordained by pope, bishop, 
presbyter, or people ; these are secondary things, and 
of no comparative moment. The church which opens 
on heaven is that, and that only, in which the spirit of 
heaven dwells. The church whose worship rises to 
God's ear is that, and that only, where the soul ascends. 
No matter whether it be gathered in cathedral or barn ; 
whether it sit in silence, or send up a hymn ; whether 
rhe minister speak from carefully prepared notes, or 



THE CHURCH. 363 

from immediate, fervent, irrepressible suggestion. If 
God be loved, and Jesus Christ be welcomed to the 
soul, and his instructions be meekly and wisely heard, 
and the solemn purpose grow up to do all duty amidst 
all conflict, sacrifice, and temptation, then the true end 
of the church is answered. " This is no other than the 
house of God, the gate of heaven." 

In these remarks I do not mean that all churches are 
of equal worth. Some undoubtedly correspond more 
than others to the spirit and purpose of Christianity, to 
the simple usages of the primitive disciples, and to the 
principles of human nature. All have their supersti- 
tions and corruptions, but some are more pure than the 
rest ; and we are bound to seek that which is purest, 
which corresponds most to the Divine will. As far as 
we have power to select, we should go to the church 
w T here we shall be most helped to become devout, disin- 
terested, and morally strong. Our salvation, however, 
does not depend on our finding the best church on earth, 
for this may be distant or unknown. Amidst diversities 
of administrations there is the same spirit. In all re- 
ligious societies professing Christ as their Lord, the 
plainest, grandest truths of religion will almost certainly 
be taught, and some souls may be found touched and 
enlightened from above. This is a plain, undeniable 
fact. In all sects, various as they are, good and holy 
men may be found ; nor can we tell in which the holiest 
have grown up. The church, then, answers its end in 
all ; for its only end is, to minister to human virtue. It 
is delightful to read in the records of all denominations 
the lives of eminent Christians who have given up every 
thing for their religion, who have been faithful unto 
death, who have shed around them the sweet light and 



364 THE CHURCH. 

fragrance of Christian hope and love. We cannot, then ? 
well choose amiss, if we choose the church which, as it 
seems to us, best represents the grand ideas of Christ, 
and speaks most powerfully to our consciences and 
hearts. This church, however, we must not choose 
for our brother. He differs from us, probably, in tem- 
perament, in his range of intellect, or in the impressions 
which education and habit have given him. Perhaps the 
worship which most quickens you and me may hardly 
keep our neighbour awake. He must be approached 
through the heart and imagination ; we through the rea- 
son. What to him is fervor passes with us for noise. 
What to him is an imposing form is to us vain show. 
Condemn him not. If, in his warmer atmosphere, he 
builds up a stronger faith in God and a more steadfast 
choice of perfect goodness than ourselves, his church is 
better to him than ours to us. 

One great error in regard to churches contributes to 
the false estimate of them as essential to salvation. We 
imagine that the church, the minister, the worship can 
do something for us mechanically ; that there are certain 
mysterious influences in what we call a holy place, which 
may act on us without our own agency. It is not so. 
The church and the minister can do little for us in com- 
parison with what we must do for ourselves, and nothing 
for us without ourselves. They become to us blessings 
through our own activity. Every man must be his own 
priest. It is his own action, not the minister's, it is the 
prayer issuing from his own heart, not from another's lips, 
which aids him in the church. The church does him 
good only as by its rites, prayers, hymns, and sermons 
it wakes up his spirit to think, feel, pray, praise, and re- 
solve. The church is a help, not a force. It acts on us 



THE CHURCH. 365 

Dy rational and moral means, and not by mystical opera- 
tions. Its influence resembles precisely that which is 
exerted out of church. Its efficiency depends chiefly 
on the clearness, simplicity, sincerity, love, and zeal 
with which the minister speaks to our understandings, 
consciences, and hearts ; just as in common life we are 
benefited by the clearness and energy with which our 
friends set before us what is good and pure. The church 
is adapted to our free moral nature. It acts on us as 
rational and responsible beings, and serves us through 
our own efficiency. From these views we learn that the 
glory of the church does not lie in any particular govern- 
ment or form, but in the wisdom with which it com- 
bines such influences as are fitted to awaken and purify 
the soul. 

Am I asked to state more particularly what these in- 
fluences are to which the church owes its efficacy ? I 
reply, that they are such as may be found in all church- 
es, in all denominations. The first is, the character of 
trie minister. This has an obvious, immediate, and 
powerful bearing on the great spiritual purpose of the 
church. I say, his character, not his ordination. Ordi- 
nation has no end but to introduce into the sacred office 
men qualified for its duties, and to give an impression of 
its importance. It is by his personal endowments, by 
his intellectual, moral, and religious worth, by his faith- 
fulness and zeal, and not through any mysterious cere- 
mony or power, that the minister enlightens and edifies the 
church. What matters it how he is ordained or set apart, 
if he give himself to his work in the fear of God ? What 
matters it who has laid hands on him, or whether he stand 
up in surplice or drab coat ? I go to church to be bene- 
fited, not by hands or coats, but by the action of an en- 
17* EE* 



366 THE CHURCH. 

lightened and holy teacher on my mind and heart ; not an 
overpowering, irresistible action, but such as becomes 
effectual through my own free thought and will. I go to 
be convinced of what is true, and to be warmed with 
love of what is good ; and he who thus helps me is a true 
minister, no matter from what school, consistory, or 
ecclesiastical body he comes. He carries his com- 
mission in his soul. Do not say, that his ministry has 
no u validity," because Rome, or Geneva, or Lambeth, 
or Andover, or Princeton, has not laid hands on him. 
What ! Has he not opened my eyes to see, and roused 
my conscience to reprove ? As I have heard him has 
not my heart burned within me, and have I not silently 
given myself to God with new humility and love ? Have 
I not been pierced by his warnings, and softened by his 
looks and tones of love ? Has he not taught and helped 
me to deny myself, to conquer the world, to do good to 
a foe ? Has he done this ; and yet has his ministry no 
" validity " ? What other validity can there be than 
this ? If a generous friend gives me water to drink 
when I am parched with thirst, and I drink and am re- 
freshed, will it do to tell me, that, because he did not 
buy the cup at a certain licensed shop, or draw the w T ater 
at a certain antiquated cistern, therefore his act of kind- 
ness is cc invalid," and I am as thirsty and weak as I w 7 as 
before ? What more can a minister with mitre or tiara do 
than help me, by wise and touching manifestations of 
God's truth, to become a holier, nobler man ? If my soul 
be made alive, no matter who ministers to me ; and if not, 
the ordinances of the church, whether high or low, ortho- 
dox or heretical, are of no validity so far as I am con- 
cerned. The diseased man who is restored to health 
cares little whether his physician wear wig or cowl, or 



THE CHURCH. 367 

receive his diploma from Paris or London ; and so to 
the regenerate man it is of little moment where or by 
what processes he became a temple of the Holy Spirit. 
According to these views a minister deriving power 
from his intellectual, moral, and religious worth is one 
of the chief elements of a true and quickening church. 
Such a man will gather a true church round him ; and 
we here learn that a Christian community is bound to 
do what may aid, and to abstain from what may impair, 
the virtue, nobleness, spiritual energy of its minister. 
It should especially leave him free, should wish him to 
wear no restraints but those of a sense of duty. His 
office is, to utter God's truth according to his apprehen- 
sion of it, and he should be encouraged to utter it 
honestly, simply. He must follow his own conscience, 
and no other. How can he rebuke prevalent error with- 
out an unawed spirit ? Better that he should hold his 
peace than not speak from his own soul. Better that 
the pulpit be prostrated than its freedom be taken away. 
The doctrine of u instructions " in politics is of very 
doubtful expediency ; but that instructions should issue 
from the congregation to the minister we all with one 
voice pronounce wrong. The religious teacher com- 
pelled to stifle his convictions grows useless to his peo- 
ple, is shorn of his strength, loses self-respect, shrinks 
before his own conscience, and owes it to himself to re- 
frain from teaching. If he be honest, upright, and pure, 
worthy of trust, worthy of being a minister, he has a 
right to freedom ; and when he uses it conscientiously, 
though he may err in judgment, and may give pain to 
judicious hearers, he has still a right to respect. There 
are, indeed, few religious societies which would know- 
ingly make the minister a slave. Many err on the side. 



368 



THE CHURCH. 



of submission, and receive his doctrines with blind, un« 
questioning faith. Still, the members of a congregation, 
conscious of holding the support of their teacher in their 
hands, are apt to expect a cautious tenderness towards 
their known prejudices or judgments, which, though not 
regarded as servility, is very hostile to that firm, bold 
utterance of truth on which the success of his ministry 
chiefly depends. 

I have mentioned the first condition of the most use- 
ful church ; it is the high character of its minister. The 
second is to be found in the spiritual character of its 
members. This, like the former, is, from the very prin- 
ciples of human nature, fitted to purify and save. It 
was the intention of Christ that a quickening power 
should be exerted in a church, not by the minister alone, 
but also by the members on one another. Accordingly 
we read of the " working of every part, every joint," 
in his spiritual body. We come together in our places 
of worship that heart may act on heart ; that in the 
midst of the devout a more fervent flame of piety may be 
kindled in our own breasts ; that we may hear God's word 
more eagerly by knowing that it is drunk in by thirsty 
spirits around us ; that our own purpose of obedience 
may be confirmed by the consciousness that a holy ener- 
gy of will is unfolding itself in our neighbours. To this 
sympathy the church is dedicated ; and in this its highest 
influence is sometimes found. To myself the most 
effectual church is that in which I see the signs of Chris- 
tian affection in those around me, in which warm hearts 
are beating on every side, in which a deep stillness 
speaks of the absorbed soul, in which I recognize 
fellow-beings who in common life have impressed me 
with their piety. One look from a beaming counte- 



• THE CHURCH. 369 

nance, one tone in singing from a deeply moved heart, 
perhaps aids me more than the sermon. When nothing 
is said, I feel it good to be among the devout ; and I 
wonder not that the Quakers in some of their still meet- 
ings profess to hold the most intimate union, not only 
with God, but with each other. It is not with the voice 
only that man communicates with man. Nothing is so 
eloquent as the deep silence of a crowd. A sigh, a low 
breathing, sometimes pours into us our neighbour's soul 
more than a volume of words. There is a communica- 
tion more subtile than freemasonry between those who 
feel alike. How contagious is holy feeling ! On the 
other hand, how freezing, how palsying, is the gathering 
of a multitude who feel nothing, who come to God's 
house without reverence, without love, who gaze around 
on each other as if they were assembled at a show, 
whose restlessness keeps up a slightly disturbing sound, 
whose countenances reveal no collectedness, no earnest- 
ness, but a frivolous or absent mind ! The very sanctity 
of the place makes this indifference more chilling. One 
of the coldest spots on earth is a church without devo- 
tion. What is it to me that a costly temple is set apart, 
by ever so many rites, for God's service, that priests 
who trace their lineage to apostles have consecrated it, 
if I find it thronged by the worldly and undevout ? This 
is no church to me. T go to meet, not human bodies, 
but souls ; and if I find them in an upper room like that 
where the first disciples met, or in a shed, or in a street, 
there I find a church. There is the true altar, the sweet 
incense, the accepted priest. These all I find in sancti- 
fied souls. 

True Christians give a sanctifying power, a glory, to 
the place of worship where they come together. In 



370 THE CHURCH. • 

them Christ is present and manifested in a far higher 
sense than if he were revealed to the bodily eye. We 
are apt, indeed, to think differently. Were there a place 
of worship in which a glory like that which clothed 
Jesus on the Mount of Transfiguration were to shine 
forth, how should we throng to it as the chosen spot on 
earth ! how should we honor this as eminently his church ! 
But there is a more glorious presence of Christ than 
this. It is Christ formed in the souls of his disciples. 
Christ's bodily presence does not make a church. He 
was thus present in the thronged streets of Jerusalem, 
present in the synagogues and temples ; but these were 
not churches. It is the presence of his spirit, truth, 
likeness, divine love, in the souls of men which attracts 
and unites them into one living body. Suppose that we 
meet together in a place consecrated by all manner of 
forms, but that nothing of Christ's spirit dwells in us. 
With all its forms, it is a synagogue of Satan, not a 
church of Jesus. Christ in the hearts of men, I repeat 
it, is the only church bond. The Catholics, to give 
them a feeling of the present Saviour, adorn their tem- 
ples with paintings representing him in the most affect- 
ing scenes of his life and death ; and had worship never 
been directed to these, I should not object to them. 
But there is a far higher likeness to Christ than the artist 
ever drew or chiselled. It exists in the heart of his true 
disciple. The true disciple surpasses Raphael and 
Michael Angelo. The latter have given us Christ's 
countenance from fancy, and, at best, having little like- 
ness to the mild beauty and majestic form which moved 
through Judea. But the disciple who sincerely con- 
forms himself to the disinterestedness, and purity, and 
filial worship, and all-sacrificing love of Christ gives us 



THE CHURCH. 371 

no fancied representation, but the true, divine lineaments 
of his soul, the very spirit which beamed in his face, 
which spoke in his voice, which attested his glory as the 
Son of God. The truest church is that which has in 
the highest degree this spiritual presence of our Lord, 
this revelation of Jesus in his followers. This is the 
church in which we shall find the greatest aid to our vir- 
tue which outward institution can afford us. 

I have thus spoken of the two chief elements of a 
living and effectual church ; a pure, noble-minded minis- 
ter, and faithful followers of Christ. In the preceding 
remarks I have had chiefly in view particular churches, 
organized according to some particular forms ; and I 
have maintained that these are important only as minis- 
tering to Christian holiness or virtue. There is, how- 
ever, a grander church, to whidh I now ask your atten- 
tion ; and the consideration of this will peculiarly con- 
firm the lesson on which I- am insisting, namely, that 
there is but one essential thing, true holiness, or dis- 
interested love to God and man. There is a grander 
church than all particular ones, however extensive ; the 
Church Catholic or Universal, spread over all lands, and 
one with the church in heaven. That all Christ's fol- 
lowers form one body, one fold, is taught in various pas- 
sages in the New Testament. You remember the earn- 
estness of his last prayer, " that they might all be One, 
as he and his Father are one." Into this church all who 
partake the spirit of Christ are admitted. It asks not 
who has baptized us ; whose passport we carry ; what 
badge we wear. If u baptized by the Holy Ghost," its 
wide gates are opened to us. Within this church are 
joined those whom different names have severed or still 



372 THE CHURCH. 

sever. We hear nothing of Greek, Roman, English 
churches, but of Christ's church only. My friends, this 
is not an imaginary union. The Scriptures in speaking 
of it do not talk rhetorically, but utter the soberest truth. 
All sincere partakers of Christian virtue are essentially 
one. In the spirit which pervades them dwells a uniting 
power found in no other tie. Though separated by 
oceans, they have sympathies strong and indissoluble, 
Accordingly, the clear, strong utterance of one gifted, in- 
spired Christian flies through the earth. It touches kin- 
dred chords in another hemisphere. The word of such 
a man as Fenelon, for instance, finds its way into the 
souls of scattered millions. Are not he and they of one 
church ? I thrill with joy at the name of holy men who 
lived ages ago. Ages do not divide us. I venerate 
them more for their antiquity. Are we not one body ? 
Is not this union something real ? It is not men's com- 
ing together into one building which makes a church. 
Suppose that in a place of worship I sit so near a fel- 
low-creature as to touch him ; but that there is no com- 
mon feeling between us, that the truth which moves me 
he inwardly smiles at as a dream of fancy, that the dis- 
interestedness which I honor he calls weakness or wild 
enthusiasm. How far apart are we, though visibly so 
near ! We belong to different worlds. How much 
nearer am I to some pure, generous spirit in another 
continent whose word has penetrated my heart, whose 
virtues have kindled me to emulation, whose pure thoughts 
are passing through my mind whilst I sit in the house of 
prayer ! With which of these two have I church union ? 
Do not tell me that I surrender myself to a fiction 
of imagination, when I say, that distant Christians, that 
all Christians and myself, form one body, one church, 



THE CHURCH. 373 

just as far as a common love and piety possess our 
hearts. Nothing is more real than this spiritual union. 
There is one grand, all-comprehending church ; and if I 
am a Christian, I belong to it, and no man can shut me 
out of it. You may exclude me from your Roman 
church, your Episcopal church, and your Calvinistic 
church, on account of supposed defects in my creed or 
my sect, and I am content to be excluded. But I will 
not be severed from the great body of Christ. Who 
shall sunder me from such men as Fenelon, and Pascal, 
and Borromeo, from Archbishop Leighton, Jeremy Tay- 
lor, and John Howard ? Who can rupture the spiritual 
bond between these men and myself? Do I not hold 
them dear ? Does not their spirit, flowing out through 
their writings and lives, penetrate my soul ? Are they 
not a portion of my being ? Am I not a different man 
from what I should have been, had not these and other 
like spirits acted on mine ? And is it in the power of 
synod, or conclave, or of all the ecclesiastical combina- 
tions on earth, to part me from them ? I am bound to 
them by thought and affection ; and can these be sup- 
pressed by the bull of a pope or the excommunication 
of a council ? The soul breaks scornfully these bar- 
riers, these webs of spiders, and joins itself to the great 
and good ; and if it possess their spirit, will the great and 
good, living or dead, cast it off because it has not en- 
rolled itself in this or another sect ? A pure mind is 
free of the universe. It belongs to the church, the 
family of the pure, in all worlds. Virtue is no local 
thing. It is not honorable because born in this com- 
munity or that, but for its own independent, everlasting 
beauty. This is the bond of the universal church. No 
man can be excommunicated from it but by himself, by 
ff 18 



374 THE CHURCH. 

the death of goodness in his own breast. All sentences 
of exclusion are vain 5 if he do not dissolve the tie of 
purity which binds him to all holy souls. 

I honor the Roman Catholic church on one account ; 
it clings to the idea of a Universal Church, though it 
has mutilated and degraded it. The word Catholic 
means Universal. Would to God that the church which 
has usurped the name had understood the reality ! Still, 
Romanism has done something to give to its members 
the idea of their connexion with that vast spiritual com- 
munity, or church, which has existed in all times and 
spread over all lands. It guards the memory of great 
and holy men who in all ages have toiled and suffered 
for religion, asserts the honors of the heroes of the faith, 
enshrines them in heaven as beatified saints, converts 
their legends into popular literature, appoints days for 
the celebration of their virtues, and reveals them almost 
as living to the eye by the pictures in which genius has 
immortalized their deeds. In doing this Rome has fallen, 
indeed, into error. She has fabricated exploits for these 
spiritual persons, and exalted them into objects of wor- 
ship. But she has also done good. She has given to 
her members the feeling of intimate relation to the ho- 
liest and noblest men in all preceding ages. An inter- 
esting and often a sanctifying tie connects the present Ro- 
man Catholic with martyrs, and confessors, and a host of 
men whose eminent piety and genius and learning have 
won for them an immortality of fame. It is no mean ser- 
vice thus to enlarge men's ideas and affections, to awaken 
their veneration for departed greatness, to teach them 
their connexion with the grandest spirits of all times. It 
was this feature of Catholicism which most interested 
me in visiting Catholic countries. The services at the 



THE CHURCH. 375 

altar did not move, but rather pained me. But when I 
cast my eyes on the pictures on the walls, which placed 
before me the holy men of departed ages, now absorbed 
in devotion and lost in rapture, now enduring with meek 
courage and celestial hope the agonies of a painful death 
in defence of the truth, I was touched, and I hope made 
better. The voice of the officiating priest I did not 
hear ; but these sainted dead spoke to my heart, and I 
was sometimes led to feel as if an hour on Sunday spent 
in this communion were as useful to me as if it had been 
spent in a Protestant church. These saints never rose 
to my thoughts as Roman Catholics. I never connect- 
ed them with any particular church. They were to me 
living, venerable witnesses to Christ, to the power of 
religion, to the grandeur of the human soul. I saw what 
men might suffer for the truth, how they could rise above 
themselves, how real might become the ideas of God 
and a higher life. This inward reverence for the de- 
parted good helped me to feel myself a member of the 
church universal. I wanted no pope or priest to estab- 
lish my unity with them. My own heart was witness 
enough to a spiritual fellowship. Is it not to be desired 
that all our churches should have services to teach us 
our union with Christ's whole body ? Would not this break 
our sectarian chains, and awaken reverence for Christ's 
spirit, for true goodness, under every name and form ? It 
is not enough, to feel that we are members of this or that 
narrow communion. Christianity is universal sympathy 
and love. I do not recommend that our churches should 
be lined with pictures of saints. This usage must come 
in, if it come at all, not by recommendation, but by 
gradual change of tastes and feelings. But why may 
not the pulpit be used occasionally to give us the lives 



376 THE CHURCH. 

and virtues of eminent disciples in former ages ? It is 
customary to deliver sermons on the history of Peter, 
John, Paul, and of Abraham, and Elijah, and other 
worthies of the Old Testament ; and this we do because 
their names are written in the Bible. But goodness 
owes nothing to the circumstance of its being recorded 
in a sacred book, nor loses its claim to grateful, rever- 
ent commemoration because not blazoned there. Moral 
greatness did not die out with the apostles. Their lives 
were reported for this, among other ends, that their vir- 
tues might be propagated to future times, and that men 
might spring up as worthy a place among the canonized 
as themselves. What I wish is, that we should learn to 
regard ourselves as members of a vast spiritual com- 
munity, as joint heirs and fellow-worshippers with the 
goodly company of Christian heroes who have gone 
before us, instead of immuring ourselves in particular 
churches. Our nature delights in this consciousness of 
vast connexion. This tendency manifests itself in the 
patriotic sentiment, and in the passionate clinging of men 
to a great religious denomination. Its true and noblest 
gratification is found in the deep feeling of a vital, ever- 
lasting connexion with the universal church, with the in- 
numerable multitude of the holy on earth and in heaven. 
This church we shall never make a substitute for virtue. 

I have spoken of the Roman Catholic Church. My 
great objection to this communion is, that it has fallen 
peculiarly into the error which I am laboring to expose 
in this Discourse, that it has attached idolatrous impor- 
tance to the institution of the Church, that it virtually 
exalts this above Christ's spirit, above inward sanctity. 
Its other errors are of inferior importance. It does not 



THE CHURCH. 377 

offend me, that the Romanist maintains that a piece of 
bread, a wafer, over which a priest has pronounced some 
magical words, is the flesh and blood of Jesus Christ. 
I learn, indeed, in this error, an humbling lesson of hu- 
man credulity, of the weakness of human reason ; but I 
see nothing in it which strikes at the essential principles 
of religion. When, however, the Roman Catholic goes 
farther, and tells me that God looks with abhorrence on 
all who will not see in the consecrated wafer Christ's 
flesh and blood ; and when he makes the reception of 
this from the hands of a consecrated priest the door into 
Christ's fold, then I am shocked by the dishonor he 
casts on God and virtue, by his debasing conceptions of 
our moral nature and of the Divine, and by his cruel dis- 
ruption of the ties of human and Christian brotherhood. 
How sad and strange that a man educated under Chris- 
tianity should place religion in a church-connexion, in 
church-rites, should shut from God's family the wisest 
and the best because they conscientiously abstain from 
certain outward ordinances ! Is not holiness of heart 
and life dear to God for its own sake, dear to him with- 
out the manipulations of a priest, without the agency of a 
consecrated wafer ? The grand error of Roman Cathol- 
icism is, its narrow church-spirit, its blind sectarianism, 
its exclusion of virtuous, pious men from God's favor 
because they cannot eat, drink, or pray according to 
certain prescribed rites. Romanism has to learn that 
nothing but the inward life is great and good in the sight 
of the Omniscient, and that all who cherish this are mem- 
bers of Christ's body. Romanism is any thing but what 
\t boasts to be, the Universal Church. I am too much 
a Catholic to enlist under its banner. 

I belong to the Universal Church ; nothing shall sep- 



18 



FF 



378 THE CHURCH. 

arate me from it. In saying this, however, I am no 
enemy to particular churches. In the present age of 
the world it is perhaps best that those who agree in 
theological opinions should worship together ; and I do 
not object to the union of several such churches in one 
denomination, provided that all sectarian and narrow 
feeling be conscientiously and scrupulously resisted. I 
look on the various churches of Christendom with no 
feelings of enmity. I have expressed my abhorrence of 
the sectarian spirit of Rome ; but in that, as in all other 
churches, individuals are better than their creed ; and, 
amidst gross error and the inculcation of a narrow spirit, 
noble virtues spring up, and eminent Christians are 
formed. It is one sign of the tendency of human na- 
ture to goodness, that it grows good under a thousand 
bad 'influences. The Romish church is illustrated by 
great names. Her gloomy convents have often been 
brightened by fervent love to God and man. Her St. 
Louis, and Fenelon, and Massillon, and Cheverus ; her 
missionaries who have carried Christianity to the ends 
of the earth ; her sisters of charity who have carried 
relief and solace to the most hopeless want and pain ; 
do not these teach us that in the Romish church the 
Spirit of God has found a home ? How much, too, 
have other churches to boast ! In the English church 
we meet the names of Latimer, Hooker, Barrow, Leigh- 
ton, Berkeley, and Heber ; in the Dissenting Calvinistic 
church, Baxter, Howe, Watts, Doddridge, and Robert 
Hall ; among the Quakers, George Fox, William Penn, 
Robert Barclay, nnd our own Anthony Benezet, and 
John Woolman ; in the Anti-trinitarian church, John 
Milton, John Locke, Samuel Clarke, Price, and Priest- 
ley. To repeat these names does the heart good. They 



THE CHURCH. 379 

oreathe a fragrance through the common air. They lift 
up the whole race to which they belonged. With the 
churches of which they were pillars or chief ornaments 
f have many sympathies ; nor do I condemn the union 
of ourselves to these or any other churches whose doc-i 
trines we approve, provided that we do it without sever- 
ing ourselves in the least from the universal church. On 
this point we cannot be too earnest. We must shun the 
spirit of sectarianism as from hell. We must shudder 
at the thought of shutting up God in any denomina- 
tion. We must think no man the better for belonging 
to our communion ; no man the worse for belonging to 
another. W T e must look with undiminished joy on good- 
ness, though it shine forth from the most adverse sect. 
Christ's spirit must be equally dear and honored, no 
matter where manifested. To confine God's love or 
his good Spirit to any party, sect, or name is to sin 
against the fundamental law of the kingdom of God, to 
break that living bond with Christ's universal church 
which is one of our chief helps to perfection. 

I have now given what seem to me the most important 
views in relation to the church ; and in doing this I have 
not quoted much from Scripture, because quotations 
cannot be given fully on this or on any controverted 
point in the compass of a discourse. I have relied on 
what is vastly more important, on the general strain and 
tone of Scripture, on the spirit of the Christian religion, 
on the sum and substance of Christ's teachings, which 
is plainly this, that inward holiness, or goodness, or dis- 
interested love, is all in all. I also want time to con- 
iider at large the arguments or modes of reasoning by 
which this or that church sets itself forth as the only true 



380 THE CHURCH 

church, and by which the necessity of entering it is 
thought to be proved. I cannot, however, abstain from 
offering a few remarks on these. 

The principal arguments on which exclusive churches 
rest their' claims are drawn from Christian history and 
literature, in other words, from the records of the primi- 
tive ages of our faith, and from the writings of the early 
Fathers. These arguments, I think, may be disposed 
of by a single remark, that they cannot be comprehended 
or weighed by the mass of Christians. How very, very 
few in our congregations can enter into the critical study 
of ecclesiastical history, or wade through the folios of 
the Greek and Latin Fathers ! Now if it were neces- 
sary to join a particular church in order to receive the 
blessings of Christianity, is it to be conceived that the 
discovery of this church should require a learning plainly 
denied to the mass of human beings ? Would not this 
church shine out with the brightness of the sun ? Would 
it be hidden in the imperfect records of distant ages, or 
in the voluminous writings of a body of ancient authors, 
more remarkable for rhetoric than for soundness of judg- 
ment ? The learned cannot agree about these authori- 
ties. How can the great multitudes of believers inter- 
pret them ? Would not the Scriptures guide us by sim- 
ple, sure rules to the only true church, if to miss it were 
death ? To my own mind this argument has a force 
akin to demonstration. 

I pass to another method of defending the claims 
which one or another church sets up to exclusive ac- 
ceptance with God. It is an unwarrantable straining of 
the figurative language of Scripture. Because the church 
is spoken of as one body, vine, or temple, theologians 
have argued that it is one outward organization, to which 



THE CHURCH. 381 

all men must be joined. But a doctrine built on meta- 
phor is worth little. Every kind of absurdity may find 
a sanction in figures of speech, explained by tame, pro- 
saic, cold-hearted commentators. The beautiful forms 
of speech to which I have referred were intended to ex- 
press the peculiarly close and tender unions which ne- 
cessarily subsist among all the enlightened and sincere 
disciples of such a religion as Christ's, a religion whose 
soul, essence, and breath of life is love, which reveals 
to us in Jesus fhe perfection of philanthropy, and which 
calls to us to drink spiritually of that blood of self-sacri- 
fice which was shed for the whole human race. How 
infinitely exalted is the union of minds and hearts formed 
by such a religion above any outward connexion estab- 
lished by rites and forms ! Yet the latter has been 
seized on by the earthly understanding as the chief mean- 
ing of Scripture, and magnified into supreme importance. 
Has not Paul taught us that there is but one perfect 
bond, Love ? * Has not Christ taught us that the seal 
set on his disciples, by which all men are to know them, 
is Love ?f Is not this the badge of the true church, the 
life of the true body of Christ ? And is not every dis- 
ciple, of every name and form, who is inspired with this, 
embraced indissolubly in the Christian union ? 

It is sometimes urged by those who maintain the 
necessity of connexion with what they call " the true 
church," that God has a right to dispense his blessings 
through what channels or on what terms he pleases ; that, 
if he sees fit to communicate his Holy Spirit through a 
certain priesthood or certain ordinances, we are bound 
to seek the gift in his appointed way ; and that, having 
actually chosen this method of imparting it, he may just- 

* Colossians, iii. 14. t John, xiii. 35, 



382 THE CHURCH. 

ly withhold it from those who refuse to comply with his 
appointment. I reply, that the right of the Infinite 
Father to bestow his blessings in such ways as to his in- 
finite wisdom and love may seem best no man can be so 
irreverent as to deny. But is it not reasonable to ex- 
pect that he will adopt such methods or conditions as 
will seem to accord with his perfection ? And ought 
we not to distrust such as seem to dishonour him ? Sup- 
pose, for example, that I were told that the Infinite 
Father had decreed to give his Holy Spirit to such as 
should bathe freely in the sea. Ought I not to require 
the most plain, undeniable proofs of a purpose apparently 
so unworthy of his majesty and goodness, before yield- 
ing obedience to it ? The presumption against it is ex- 
ceedingly strong. That the Infinite Father, who is ever 
present to the human soul, to whom it is unspeakably 
dear, who has created it for communion with himself, 
who desires and delights to impart to it his grace, that he 
should ordain sea-bathing as a condition or means of 
spiritual communication is so improbable that I must insist 
on the strongest testimony to its truth. Now I meet pre- 
cisely this difficulty in the doctrine, that God bestows his 
Holy Spirit on those who receive bread and wine, or flesh 
and blood, or a form of benediction or baptism, or any 
other outward ministration, from the hands or lips of cer- 
tain privileged ministers or priests. It is the most glori- 
ous act and manifestation of God's power and love, to im- 
part enlightening, quickening, purifying influences to the 
immortal soul. To imagine that these descend in con- 
nexion with certain words, signs, or outward rites, ad- 
ministered by a frail fellow-creature, and are withheld or 
abridged in the absence of such rites, seems, at first, an 
insult to his wisdom and goodness ; seems to bring down 



THE CHURCa 383 

bis pure, infinite throne, to set arbitrary limits to his 
highest agency, and to assimilate his worship to that of 
false gods. The Scriptures teach us that " God giveth 
grace to the humble ; n that "he giveth his Holy Spirit 
to them that ask him." This is the great law of Divine 
communications ; and we can see its wisdom, because 
the mind which hungers for Divine assistances is most 
prepared to use them aright. And can we really be- 
lieve that the prayers and aspirations of a penitent, thirst- 
ing soul need to be seconded by the outward offices of 
a minister or priest ? or that for want of these they find 
less easy entrance into the ear of the ever-present, all- 
loving Father ? My mind recoils from this doctrine as 
dishonorable to God, and I ought not to receive it with- 
out clear proofs. I want something more than meta- 
phors, or analogies, or logical inferences. I want some 
express Divine testimony. And where is it given ? Do 
we not know that thousands and millions of Christians, 
whose lives and deaths have borne witness to their faith, 
have been unable to find it in the Scriptures, or anywhere 
else ? And can we believe that the spiritual communi- 
cation of such men with the Divinity has been forfeited 
or impaired, because they have abstained from rites 
which in their consciences they could not recognize as 
of Divine appointment ? That so irrational and extrava- 
gant a doctrine should enter the mind of a man who has 
the capacity of reading the New Testament would seem 
an impossibility, did not history show us that it has been 
not only believed, but made the foundation of the bitter- 
est intolerance and the bloodiest persecutions. 

The notion, that, by a decree of God's sovereign 
will, his grace or Spirit flows through certain rites to 
those who are in union with a certain church, and that 



384 THE CHURCH. 

it is promised to none besides, has no foundation in 
Scripture or reason. The church, as I have previously 
suggested, is not an arbitrary appointment ; it does not 
rest on Will, but is ordained on account of its obvious 
fitness to accomplish the spiritual improvement which is 
the end of Christianity. It corresponds to our nature. 
It is a union of means, and influences, and offices which 
rational and moral creatures need. It has no affinity 
with the magical operations so common in false re- 
ligions ; its agency is intelligible and level to the com- 
mon mind. Its two great rites, baptism and the Lord's 
supper, are not meant to act as charms. When freed 
from the errors and superstitions which have dung to 
them for ages, and when administered, as they should 
be, with tenderness and solemnity, they are powerful 
means of bringing great truths to the mind and of touch 
ing the heart, and for these ends they are ordained. The 
adaptation of the church to the promotion of holiness 
among men is its grand excellence ; and where it ac- 
complishes this end its work is done, and no greater can 
be conceived on earth or in heaven. The moment we 
shut our eyes on this truth, and conceive of the church 
as serving us by forms and ordinances which are effect- 
ual only in the hands of privileged officials or priests, 
we plunge into the region of shadows and superstitions ; 
we have no ground to tread on, no light to guide us. 
This mysterious power, lodged in the hands of a few fel- 
low-creatures, tends to give a servile spirit to the mass 
of Christians, to impair manliness and self-respect, to 
subdue the intellect to the reception of the absurdest 
dogmas. Religion loses its simple grandeur, and de- 
generates into mechanism and form. The conscience 
is quieted by something short of true repentance ; some- 



THE CHURCH. 385 

thing besides purity of heart and life is made the qualifi- 
cation for heaven. The surest device for making the 
mind a coward and a slave is a wide-spread and closely 
cemented church the powers of which are concentrated 
in the hands of a " sacred order," and which has suc- 
ceeded in arrogating to its rites or ministers a sway over 
the future world, over the soul's everlasting weal or woe. 
The inevitably degrading influence of such a church is 
demonstrative proof against its Divine original. 

There is no end to the volumes written in defence of 
this or that church which sets itself forth as the only 
true church, and claims exclusive acceptance with God. 
But the unlettered Christian has an answer to them all. 
He cannot and need not seek it in libraries. He finds 
it, almost without seeking, in plain passages of the New 
Testament, and in his own heart. He reads, and he 
feels, that religion is an Inward Life. This he knows, 
not by report, but by consciousness, by the prostration 
of his soul in penitence, by the surrender of his will to 
the Divine, by overflowing gratitude, by calm trust, 
and by a new love to his fellow-creatures. Will it do 
to tell such a man that the promises of Christianity do 
not belong to him, that access to God is denied him, 
because he is not joined with this or that exclusive 
church ? Has not this accebS been granted to him al- 
ready ? Has he not prayed in his griefs, and been con- 
soled ? in his temptations, and been strengthened ? Has 
he not found God near in his solitudes and in the great 
congregation ? Does he thirst for any thing so fervently 
as for perfect assimilation to the Divine purity ? And 
can he question God's readiness to help him, because 
he is unable to find in Scripture a command to bind him- 
self to this or another self-magnifying church ? How 
go 19 



3S6 THE CHURCH. 

easily does the experience of the true Christian brush 
away the cobwebs of theologians ! He loves and re- 
veres God, and in this spirit has a foretaste of heaven ; 
and can heaven be barred against him by ecclesiastical 
censures ? He has felt the power of the cross and 
resurrection and promises of Jesus Christ ; and is there 
any "height or depth" of human exclusiveness and 
bigotry which can separate him from his Lord ? He 
can die for truth and humanity ; and is there any man so 
swelled by the conceit of his union with the true church 
as to stand apart and say, " I am holier than thou" ? 
When, by means of the writings or conversations of 
Christians of various denominations, you look into their 
hearts, and discern the deep workings, and conflicts, 
and aspirations of piety, can you help seeing in them 
tokens of the presence and operations of God's Spirit 
more authentic and touching than in all the harmonies 
and beneficent influences of the outward universe ? Who 
can shut up this Spirit in any place or any sect ? Who 
will not rejoice to witness it in its fruits of justice, good- 
ness, purity, and piety, wherever they meet the eye ? 
Who will not hail it as the infallible sign of the accepted 
worshipper of God ? 

One word more respecting the arguments adduced 
in support of one or another exclusive church. They 
are continually, and of necessity, losing their force. 
Arguments owe their influence very much to the mental 
condition of those to whom they are addressed. What 
is proof to one man is no proof to another. The evi- 
dence which is triumphant in one age is sometimes 
thought below notice in the next. Men's reasonings 
on practical subjects are not cold, logical processes, 
standing separate in the mind, but are carried on in in- 



THE CHURCH. 387 

timate connexion with their prevalent feelings and modes 
of thought. Generally speaking, that, and that only, is 
truth to a man which accords with the common tone of 
his mind, with the mass of his impressions, with the re- 
sults of his experience, with his measure of intellectual 
development, and especially with those deep convic- 
tions and biases which constitute what we call character. 
Now it is the tendency of increasing civilization, refine- 
ment, and expansion of mind, to produce a tone of 
thought and feeling unfriendly to the church spirit, to re- 
liance on church forms as essential to salvation. As the 
world advances it leaves matters of form behind. In 
proportion as men get into the heart of things they are 
less anxious about exteriors. In proportion as religion 
becomes a clear reality we grow tired of shows. In 
the progress of ages there spring up in greater numbers 
men of mature thought and spiritual freedom, who unite 
self-reverence with reverence of God, and who cannot, 
without a feeling approaching shame and conscious degra- 
dation, submit to a church which accumulates outward, 
rigid, mechanical observances towards the Infinite Father. 
A voice within them, which they cannot silence, pro- 
tests against the perpetual repetition of the same signs, 
motions, words, as unworthy of their own spiritual pow- 
ers, and of Him who deserves the highest homage of the 
reason and the heart. Their filial spirit protests against 
it. In common life, a refined, lofty mind expresses it- 
self in simple, natural, unconstrained manners ; and the 
same tendency, though often obstructed, is manifested in 
religion. The progress of Christianity, which must go 
on, is but another name for the growing knowledge and 
experience of that spiritual worship of the Father which 
Christ proclaimed as the end of his mission ; and before 



388 THE CHURCH. 

this the old idolatrous reliance on ecclesiastical forma 
and organizations cannot stand. There is thus a perpet- 
ually swelling current which exclusive churches have to 
stem, and which must sooner or later sweep away their 
proud pretensions. What avails it, that this or another 
church summons to its aid fathers, traditions, venerated 
usages ? The spirit, the genius of Christianity is stronger 
than all these. The great ideas of the religion must 
prevail over narrow, perverse interpretations of it. On 
this ground I have no alarm at reports of the triumphs 
of the Catholic church. The spirit of Christianity is 
stronger than popes and councils. Its venerableness and 
divine beauty put to shame the dignities and pomps of a 
hierarchy ; and men must more and more recognize it 
as alone essential to salvation. 

From the whole discussion through which I have now 
led you you will easily gather how I regard the Church, 
and what importance I attach to it. In its true idea, or 
regarded as the union of those who partake in the spirit 
of Jesus Christ, I revere it as the noblest of all associa- 
tions. Our common social unions are poor by its side. 
In the world we form ties of interest, pleasure, and am- 
bition. We come together as creatures of time and 
sense, for transient amusement or display. In the church 
we meet as God's children ; we recognize in ourselves 
something higher than this animal and worldly life. We 
come that holy feeling may spread from heart to heart. 
The church, in its true idea, is a retreat from the world. 
We meet in it, that, by union with the holy, we may 
get strength to withstand our common intercourse with 
the impure. We meet to adore God, to open our souls 
to his Spirit, and, by recognition of the common Fa- 



THE CHURCH. 



389 



ther, to forget all distinction among ourselves, to embrace 
all men as brothers. This spiritual union with the holy 
who are departed and who yet live is the beginning of 
that perfect fellowship which constitutes heaven. It is 
to survive all ties. The bonds of husband and wife, 
parent and child, are severed at death ; the union of the 
virtuous friends of God and man is as eternal as virtue, 
and this union is the essence of the true church. 

To the church relation, in this broad, spiritual view 
of it, I ascribe the highest dignity and importance. But 
as to union with a particular denomination or with 
a society of Christians for public worship and instruc- 
tion, this, however important, is not to be regarded as 
the highest means of grace. We ought, indeed, to seek 
help for ourselves, and to give help to others, by up- 
holding religious institutions, by meeting together in the 
name of Christ. The influence of Christianity is per- 
petuated and extended, in no small degree, by the pub- 
lic offices of piety, by the visible " communion of 
saints." But it is still true that the public means of 
religion are not its chief means. Private helps to piety 
are the most efficacious. The great work of religion is 
to be done, not in society, but in secret, in the retired 
soul, in the silent closet. Communion with God is emi- 
nently the means of religion, the nutriment and life of 
the soul, and we can commune with God in solitude as 
nowhere else. Here his presence may be most felt. 
It is by the breathing of the unrestrained soul, by the 
opening of the whole heart to " Him who seeth in 
secret "; it is by reviewing our own spiritual history, by 
searching deeply into ourselves, by solitary thought, and 
solitary solemn consecration of ourselves to a new vir- 
tue ; it is by these acts, and not by public gatherings, 
19* gg* 



390 THE CHURCH. 

that we chiefly make progress in the religious life. It 
is common to speak of the house of public worship as a 
holy place ; but it has no exclusive sanctity. The ho- 
liest spot on earth is that where the soul breathes its 
purest vows, and forms or executes its noblest pur- 
poses ; and on this ground, were I to seek the holiest 
spot in your city, I should not go to your splendid sanc- 
tuaries, but to closets of private prayer. Perhaps the 
" Holy of Holies " among you is some dark, narrow 
room from which most of us would shrink as unfit for 
human habitation ; but God dwells there. He hears 
there music more grateful than the swell of all your or- 
gans, sees there a beauty such as nature, in these her 
robes of spring, does not unfold ; for there he meets, 
and sees, and hears the humblest, most thankful, most 
trustful worshipper ; sees the sorest trials serenely borne, 
the deepest injuries forgiven ; sees toils and sacrifices 
cheerfully sustained, and death approached through 
poverty and lonely illness with a triumphant faith. The 
consecration which such virtues shed over the obscurest 
spot is not and cannot be communicated by any of those 
outward rites by which our splendid structures are dedi- 
cated to God. 

You see the rank which belongs to the church, wheth- 
er gathered in one place or spread over the whole earth. 
It is a sacred and blessed union ; but must not be magni- 
fied above other means and helps of religion. The 
great aids of piety are secret, not public. The Chris- 
tian cannot live without private prayer ; he may live and 
make progress without a particular church. Providence 
may place us far from the resorts of our fellow-disciples, 
beyond the sound of the Sabbath-bell, beyond all ordi- 
nances ; and we may find Sabbaths and ordinances in 



THE CHUKCH. 391 

our own spirits. Illness may separate us from the out- 
ward church as well as from the living world, and the 
soul may yet be in health and prosper. There have been 
men of eminent piety who, from conscience, have separat- 
ed themselves from all denominations of Christians and 
all outward worship. Milton, that great soul, in the latter 
years of his life forsook all temples made with hands, and 
worshipped wholly in the inward sanctuary. So did Wil- 
liam Law, the author of that remarkable book, u The 
Serious Call to a Devout and Holy Life." His excess 
of devotion (for in him devotion ran into excess) led 
him to disparage all occasional acts of piety. He lived 
in solitude, that he might make life a perpetual prayer. 
These men are not named as models in this particular. 
They mistook the wants of the soul, and misinterpreted 
the Scriptures. Even they, with all their spirituality; 
would have found moral strength and holy impulse in re- 
ligious association. But, with such examples before us, 
we learn not to exclude men from God's favor because 
severed from the outward church. 

The doctrine of this Discourse is plain. Inward sanc- 
tity, pure love, disinterested attachment to God and 
man, obedience of heart and life, sincere excellence of 
character, this is the one thing needful, this the essential 
thing in religion ; and all things else, ministers, churches, 
ordinances, places of worship, all are but means, helps, 
secondary influences, and utterly worthless when separat- 
ed from this. To imagine that God regards any thing 
but this, that he looks at any thing but the heart, is to 
dishonor him, to express a mournful insensibility to his 
pure character. Goodness, purity, virtue, this is the 
only distinction in God's sight. This is intrinsically, 



392 THE CHURCH. 

essentially, everlastingly, and by its own nature, lovely? 
beautiful, glorious, divine. It owes nothing to time, to 
circumstance, to outward connexions. It shines by its 
own light. It is the sun of the spiritual universe. It is 
God himself dwelling in the human soul. Can any man 
think lightly of it because it has not grown up in a cer- 
tain church, or exalt any church above it ? My friends, 
one of the grandest truths of religion is, the supreme 
importance of character, of virtue, of that divine spirit 
which shone out in Christ. The grand heresy is, to 
substitute any thing for this, whether creed, or form, or 
church. One of the greatest wrongs to Christ is, to 
despise his character, his virtue, in a disciple who hap- 
pens to wear a different name from our own. 

When I represent to myself true virtue or goodness ; 
not that which is made up of outward proprieties and pru- 
dent calculations, but that which chooses duty for its own 
sake and as the first concern ; which respects impartially 
the rights of every human being ; which labors and suffers 
with patient resolution for truth and others' welfare ; which 
blends energy and sweetness, deep humility and self- 
reverence ; which places joyful faith in the perfection 
of God, communes with him intimately, and strives to 
subject to his pure will all thought, imagination, and 
desire ; which lays hold on the promise of everlasting 
life, and in the strength of this hope endures calmly and 
firmly the sorest evils of the present state ; when I set 
before me this virtue, all the distinctions on which men 
value themselves fade away. Wealth is poor ; worldly 
honor is mean ; outward forms are beggarly elements. 
Condition, country, church, all sink into unimportance. 
Before this simple greatness I bow, I revere. The 
robed priest, the gorgeous altar, the great assembly, the 



THE CHURCH. 393 

pealing organ, all the exteriors of religion, vanish from 
my sight as I look at the good and great man, the holy, 
disinterested soul. Even I, with vision so dim, with 
heart so cold, can see and feel the divinity, the grandeur 
of true goodness. How, then, must God regard it ? 
To his pure eye how lovely must it be ! And can any 
of us turn from it, because some water has not been 
dropped on its forehead, or some bread put into its lips 
by a minister or priest ; or because it has not learned to 
repeat some mysterious creed which a church or human 
council has ordained ? 

My friends, reverence virtue, holiness, the upright 
will which inflexibly cleaves to duty and the pure law 
of God. Reverence nothing in comparison with it. 
Regard this as the end, and all outward services as the 
means. Judge of men by this. Think no man the better, 
no man the worse, for the church he belongs to. Try him 
by his fruits. Expel from your breasts the demon of sec- 
tarianism, narrowness, bigotry, intolerance. This is not, 
as we are apt to think, a slight sin. It is a denial of the 
supremacy of goodness. It sets up something, wheth- 
er a form or dogma, above the virtue of the heart and 
the life. Sectarianism immures itself in its particular 
church as in a dungeon, and is there cut off from the 
free air, the cheerful light, the goodly prospects, the 
celestial beauty of the church universal. 

My friends, I know that I am addressing those who 
hold various opinions as to the controverted points of 
theology. We have grown up under different influ- 
ences. We bear different names. But if we purpose 
solemnly to do God's will, and are following the precepts 
and example of Christ, we are one church, and let noth- 
ing divide us. Diversities of opinion may incline us to 



394 THE CHURCH. 

worship under different roofs ; or diversities of tastes or 
habit, to worship with different forms. But these va- 
rieties are not schisms ; they do not break the unity of 
Christ's church. We may still honor and love and re- 
joice in one another's spiritual life and progress as truly 
as if we were cast into one and the same unyielding 
form. God loves variety in nature and in the human 
soul, nor does he reject it in Christian worship. In 
many great truths, in those which are most quickening, 
purifying, and consoling, we all, I hope, agree. There 
is, too, a common ground of practice, aloof from all 
controversy, on which we may all meet. We may all 
unite hearts and hands in doing good, in fulfilling God's 
purposes of love towards our race, in toiling and suffer- 
ing for the cause of humanity, in spreading intelligence, 
freedom, and virtue, in making God known for the rever- 
ence, love, and imitation of his creatures, in resisting 
the abuses and corruptions of past ages, in exploring and 
drying up the sources of poverty, in rescuing the fallen 
from intemperance, in succouring the orphan and widow, 
in enlightening and elevating the depressed portions of 
the community, in breaking the yoke of the oppressed 
and enslaved, in exposing and withstanding the spirit 
and horrors of war, in sending God's Word to the ends 
of the earth, in redeeming the world from sin and 
woe. The angels and pure spirits who visit our earth 
come not to join a sect, but to do good to all. May 
this universal charity descend on us, and possess our 
hearts ; may our narrowness, exclusiveness, and bigotry 
melt away under this mild, celestial fire. Thus we shall 
not only join ourselves to Christ's Universal Church on 
earth, but to the Invisible Church, to the innumerable 
company of the just made perfect, in the mansions of 
everlasting purity and peace. 



THE CHURCH. 395 



NOTES 



I have spoken in this Discourse of the Romish church 
as excluding from salvation those who do not submit to it. 
I know, and rejoice to know, that many Catholics are too 
wise and good to hold this doctrine ; but the church, in- 
terpreted by its past words and acts, is not so liberal. 

I have also expressed my reverence for the illustrious 
names which have adorned the English church. This 
church sets up higher claims than any other in the Protes- 
tant world ; but by a man acquainted with its early history 
it will be seen to be clothed with no peculiar authority. If 
any Protestant church deserves to be called a creature of 
the state, it is this. It was shaped by the sovereign very 
much after his own will. It is a problem in history, how 
the English people, so sturdy and stout-hearted in the main, 
could be so tame and flexible in matters of religion, under 
Henry the Eighth, Edward the Sixth, Mary, and Eliza- 
beth. They seem to have received, almost as unresisting- 
ly as the coin, the image and superscription of the king. 
The causes of this yieldingness are to be found in the 
averseness to civil broils to which the nation had been 
brought by the recent bloody and exhausting wars of the 
Roses ; in the formidable power of the Tudor sovereigns ; 
in the insular position of England, and her distance from 
Rome, which checked the domination of the papacy ; in 
the ignorance of the people ; in the ravenousness of the 
nobles for the property of the church in the first instance, 



396 THE CHURCH. 

and afterwards in their greediness for court favor. This 
strange pliancy is a stain on the annals of the country. 
It was in the Puritans that the old national sturdiness re- 
vived, that England became herself again. These men 
were rude in aspect, and forbidding in manners ; but, with 
all their sternness, narrowness, frowning theology, and 
high religious pretensions, they were the master spirits of 
their times. To their descendants it is delightful to think 
of the service they rendered to the civil and religious 
liberties of England and the world, and to recall their 
deep, vital piety, a gem most rudely set, but too precious 
to be overvalued. 



Since the preceding Discourse has been printed, the 
following extract from an article in the Edinburgh Review 
for July, 1841, entitled "The Port-Royalists," has been 
deemed so strikingly coincident that it is herewith ap- 
pended. 

" But for every labor under the sun, says the Wise Man, 
there is a time. There is a time for bearing testimony 
against the errors of Rome ; why not also a time for testify- 
ing to the sublime virtues with which those errors have been 
so often associated ? Are we for ever to admit and never 
to practise the duties of kindness and mutual forbearance ? 
Does Christianity consist in a vivid perception of the faults, 
and an obtuse blindness to the merits of those who differ 
from us ? Is charity a virtue only when we ourselves are 
the objects of it ? Is there not a church as pure and more 
catholic than that of Oxford or Rome, — a church com- 
prehending within its limits every human being who, ac- 
cording to the measure of the knowledge placed within 
his reach, strives habitually to be conformed to the will 
of the common Father of us all ? To indulge hope be- 
yond the pale of some narrow communion has, by each 
Christian society in its turn, been denounced as a daring 
presumption. Yet hope has come to all ; and with her, 
faith and charity, her inseparable companions. Amidst 



THE CHURCH. 397 

the shock of contending creeds and the uproar of anathe- 
mas, they who have ears to hear and hearts to understand 
have listened to gentler and more kindly sounds. Good 
men may debate as polemics, but they will feel as Chris 
tmns. On the universal mind of Christendom is indelibly 
engraven one image, towards which the eyes of all are 
more or less earnestly directed. Whoever has himself 
caught any resemblance, however faint and imperfect, to 
that divine and benignant Original, has, in his measure, 
learned to recognize a brother wherever he can discern 
the same resemblance. 

" There is an essential unity in that kingdom which is 
not of this world. But within the provinces of that mighty 
state there is room for endless varieties of administration, 
and for local laws and customs widely differing from each 
other. The unity consists in the one object of worship, 
the one object of affiance, the one source of virtue, the 
one cementing principle of mutual love which pervades 
and animates the whole. The diversities are, and must 
be, as numerous and intractable as are the essential dis- 
tinctions which nature, habit, and circumstances have cre- 
ated amongst men. Uniformity of creeds, of discipline, of 
ritual, and of ceremonies, in such a world as ours ! a 
world where no two men are not as distinguishable in 
their mental as in their physical aspect ; where every petty 
community has its separate system of civil government ; 
where all that meets the eye, and all that arrests the ear 
has the stamp of boundless and infinite variety ! What 
are the harmonies of tone, of color, and of form, but the 
result of contrasts ; of contrasts held in subordination to 
one pervading principle, which reconciles without con- 
founding the component elements of the music, the paint- 
ing, or the structure ? In the physical works of God 
beauty could have no existence without endless diversities. 
Why assume that in religious society — a work not less 
surely to be ascribed to the supreme Author of all things 
— this law is absolutely reversed ? Were it possible to 
subdue that innate tendency of the human mind which 
compels men to differ in religious opinions and observan- 
ces, at least as widely as on all other subjects, what would 
be the results of such a triumph ? Where would then be 
the free comparison and the continual enlargement of 
thought ; where the self-distrusts which are the springs of 

hh 20 



398 THE CHURCH. 

humility, or the mutual dependencies which are the bonds 
of love ? He who made us with this infinite variety in our 
intellectual and physical constitution must have foreseen, 
and foreseeing, must have intended, a corresponding dis- 
similarity in the opinions of his creatures on all questions 
submitted to their judgment and proposed for their ac- 
ceptance. For truth is his law ; and if all will profess to 
think alike, all must live in the habitual violation of it. 

"Zeal for uniformity attests the latent distrusts, not 
the firm convictions of the zealot. In proportion to the 
strength of our self-reliance is our indifference to the 
multiplication of suffrages in favor of our own judgment. 
Our minds are steeped in imagery ; and where the visible 
form is not, the impalpable spirit escapes the notice of the 
unreflecting multitude. In common hands analysis stops 
at the species or the genus, and cannot rise to the order 
or the class. To distinguish birds from fishes, beasts from 
insects, limits the efforts of the vulgar observer of the face 
of nature. But Cuvier could trace the sublime unity, the 
universal type, the fontal Idea existing in the creative In- 
telligence, which connects as one the mammoth and the 
snail. So, common observers can distinguish from each 
other the different varieties of religious society, and can 
ris£ no higher. Where one assembly worships with har- 
monies of music, fumes of incense, ancient liturgies, and 
a gorgeous ceremonial, and another listens to the unaided 
voice of a single pastor, they can perceive and record the 
differences ; but the hidden ties which unite them both 
escape such observation. All appears as contrast, and all 
ministers to antipathy and discord. It is our belief that 
these things may be rightly viewed in a different aspect, 
and yet with the most severe conformity to the Divine 
will, whether as intimated by natural religion, or as re- 
vealed in Holy Scripture. We believe, that, in the judg- 
ment of an enlightened charity, many Christian societies 
who are accustomed to denounce each other's errors will 
at length come to be regarded as members in common of 
the one great and comprehensive church, in which diver- 
sities of forms are harmonized by an all-pervading unity 
of spirit. For ourselves, at least, we should deeply re- 
gret to conclude that we are aliens from that great Chris- 
tian commonwealth of which the nuns and recluses of the 
valley of Port-Royal were members, and members assured- 
ly of no common excellence." 



SELF-CULTURE. 

AN ADDRESS 

INTRODUCTORY TO THE FRANKLIN LECTURES, 
Delivered at Boston, Sept., 1838. 



This Address was intended to make two lectures j but the author was 
led to abridge it and deliver it as one, partly by the apprehension, that 
some passages were too abstract for a popular address, partly to secure 
the advantages of presenting the whole subject at once and in close con- 
nexion, and for other reasons which need not be named. Most of the 
passages which were omitted, are now published. The author respect- 
fully submits the discourse to those for whom it was particularly intended, 
and to the public, in the hope, that it will at least bring a great subject 
before the minds of some, who may not as yet have given to it the atten- 
tion it deserves. 



ADDRESS ON SELF-CULTURE 



My respected Friends : 

By the invitation of the committee of arrangements 
for the Franklin Lectures, I now appear before you to 
offer some remarks introductory to this course. My 
principal inducement for doing so is my deep interest in 
those of my fellow-citizens, for whom these lectures are 
principally designed. I understood that they were to 
be attended chiefly by those who are occupied by manual 
labor ; and, hearing this, I did not feel myself at liberty 
to decline the service to which I had been invited. I 
wished by compliance to express my sympathy with this 
large portion of my race. I wished to express my 
sense of obligation to those, from whose industry and 
skill I derive almost all the comforts of life. I wished 
still more to express my joy in the efforts they are 
making for their own improvement, and my firm faith in 
their success. These motives will give a particular 
character and bearing to some of my remarks. I shall 
speak occasionally as among those who live by the labor 
of their hands. But I shall not speak as one separated 
30 i-ih* 



402 SELF-CULTURE, 

from them. I belong rightfully to the great fraternity 
of working men. Happily in this community we all are 
bred and born to work ; and this honorable mark, set on 
us all, should bind together the various portions of the 
community. 

I have expressed my strong interest in the mass of 
the people ; and this is founded, not on their usefulness 
to the community, so much as on what they are in them- 
selves. Their condition is indeed obscure ; but their 
importance is not on this account a whit the less. The 
multitude of men cannot, from the nature of the case, be 
distinguished ; for the very idea of distinction is, that a 
man stands out from the multitude. They make little 
noise and draw little notice in their narrow spheres of 
action ; but still they have their full proportion of per- 
sonal worth and even of greatness. Indeed every man, 
in every condition, is great. It is only our own dis- 
eased sight which makes him little. A man is great as 
a man, be he where or what he may. The grandeur of 
his nature turns to insignificance all outward distinctions. 
His powers of intellect, of conscience, of love, of 
knowing God, of perceiving the beautiful, of acting on 
his own mind, on outward nature, and on his fellow- 
creatures, these are glorious prerogatives. Through the 
vulgar error of undervaluing what is common, we are 
apt indeed to pass these by as of little worth. But as in 
the outward creation, so in the soul, the common is the 
most precious. Science and art may invent splendid 
modes of illuminating the apartments of the opulent ; 
but these are all poor and worthless, compared with the 
common light which the sun sends into all our windows, 
which he pours freely, impartially over hill and valley, 
which kindles daily the eastern and western sky ; and so 



SELF-CULT UIIE. 40o 

the common lights of reason, and conscience, and love, 
are of more worth and dignity than the rare endowments 
which give celebrity to a few. Let us not disparage 
that nature which is common to all men ; for no thought 
can measure its grandeur. It is the image of God, the 
image even of his infinity, for no limits can be set to its 
unfolding. He who possesses the divine powers of the 
soul is a great being, be his place what it may. You 
may clothe him with rags, may immure him in a dun- 
geon, may chain him to slavish tasks. But he is still 
great. You may shut him out of your houses ; but 
God opens to him heavenly mansions. He makes no 
show indeed in the streets of a splendid city ; but a 
clear thought, a pure affection, a resolute act of a virtu- 
ous will, have a dignity of quite another kind and far 
higher than accumulations of brick and granite and 
plaster and stucco, however cunningly put together, or 
though stretching far beyond our sight. Nor is this all. 
If we pass over this grandeur of our common nature, 
and "turn our thoughts to that comparative greatness, 
which draws chief attention, and which consists in the 
decided superiority of the individual to the general 
standard of power and character, we shall find this as 
free and frequent a growth among the obscure and un- 
noticed as in more conspicuous walks of life. The 
truly great are to be found everywhere, nor is it easy to 
say, in what condition they spring up most plentifully. 
Real greatness has nothing to do with a man's sphere. 
It does not lie in the magnitude of his outward agency, 
in the extent of the effects which he produces. The 
greatest men may do comparatively little abroad. Per- 
haps the greatest in our city at this moment are buried 
in obscurity. Grandeur of character lies wholly in 



404 SELF-CULTURE. 

force of soul, that is, in the force of thought, moral 
principle, and love, and this may be found in the hum- 
blest condition of life. A man brought up to an obscure 
trade, and hemmed in by the wants of a growing family, 
may, in his narrow sphere, perceive more clearly, dis- 
criminate more keenly, weigh evidence more wisely, 
seize on the right means more decisively, and have 
more presence of mind in difficulty, than another who 
has accumulated vast stores of knowledge by laborious 
study ; and he has more of intellectual greatness. Many 
a man, who has gone but a few miles from home, under- 
stands human nature better, detects motives and weighs 
character more sagaciously, than another, who has trav- 
elled over the known world, and made a name by his 
reports of different countries. It is force of thought 
which measures intellectual, and so it is force of princi- 
ple which measures moral greatness, that highest of 
human endowments, that brightest manifestation of the 
Divinity. The greatest man is he who chooses the 
Right with invincible resolution, who resists the sorest 
temptations from within and without, who bears the 
heaviest burdens cheerfully, who is calmest in storms 
and most fearless under menace and frowns, whose reli- 
ance on truth, on virtue, on God, is most unfaltering ; 
and is this a greatness, which is'apt to make a show, or 
which is most likely to abound in conspicuous station ? 
The solemn conflicts of reason with passion ; the victo- 
ries of moral and religious principle over urgent and 
almost irresistible solicitations to self-indulgence ; the 
hardest sacrifices of duty, those of deep-seated affec- 
tion and of the heart's fondest hopes ; the consolations, 
hopes, joys, and peace, of disappointed, persecuted, 
scorned, deserted virtue ; these are of course unseen ; 



SELF-CULTURE. 405 

so that the true greatness of human life is almost wholly 
out of sight. Perhaps in our presence, the most heroic 
deed on earth is done in some silent spirit, the loftiest 
purpose cherished, the most generous sacrifice made 
and we do not suspect it. I believe this greatness to be 
most common among the multitude, whose names are 
never heard. Among common people will be found 
more of hardship borne manfully, more of unvarnished 
truth, more of religious trust, more of that generosity 
which gives what the giver needs himself, and more of 
a wise estimate of life and death, than among the more 
prosperous. — And even in regard to influence over 
other beings, which is thought the peculiar prerogative 
of distinguished station, I believe, that the difference 
between the conspicuous and the obscure does not 
amount to much. Influence is to be measured, not 
by the extent of surface it covers, but by its kind. A 
man may spread his mind, his feelings, and opinions, 
through a great extent ; but if his mind be a low one, 
he manifests no greatness. A wretched artist may fill a 
city with daubs, and by a false, showy style achieve a 
reputation ; but the man of genius, who leaves behind 
him one grand picture, in which immortal beauty is em- 
bodied, and which is silently to spread a true taste in his 
art, exerts an incomparably higher influence. Now the 
noblest influence on earth is that exerted on character ; 
and he who puts forth this, does a great work, no matter 
how narrow or obscure his sphere. The father and 
mother of an unnoticed family, who, in their seclusion, 
awaken the mind of one child to the idea and love of 
perfect goodness, who awaken in him a strength of will 
to repel all temptation, and who send him out prepared 
to profit by the conflicts of life, surpass in influence a 
30* 



•406 SELF-CULTUBE, 

Napoleon breaking the world to his sway. And not only 
is their work higher in kind ; who knows, but that they 
are doing a greater work even as to extent of surface 
than the conqueror ? Who knows, but that the being, 
whom they inspire with holy and disinterested principles, 
may communicate himself to others ; and that, by a 
spreading agency, of which they were the silent origin, 
improvements may spread through a nation, through the 
world ? In these remarks you will see why I feel and 
express a deep interest in the obscure, in the mass of 
men. The distinctions of society vanish before the 
light of these truths. I attach myself to the multitude, 
not because they are voters and have political power ; 
but because they are men, and have within their reach 
the most glorious prizes of humanity. 

In this country the mass of the people are distinguish- 
ed by possessing means of improvement, of self-culture, 
possessed nowhere else. To incite them to the use 
of these, is to render them the best service they can 
receive. Accordingly I have chosen for the subject of 
this lecture, Self-culture, or the care which every man 
owes to himself, to the unfolding and perfecting of his 
nature. I consider this topic as particularly appropriate 
to the introduction of a course of lectures, in conse- 
quence of a common disposition to regard these and 
other like means of instruction, as able of themselves to 
carry forward the hearer. Lectures have their use. 
They stir up many, who, but for such outward appeals, 
might have slumbered to the end of life. But let it be 
remembered, that little is to be gained simply by coming 
to this place once a-week, and giving up the mind for an 
hour to be wrought upon by a teacher. Unless we are 
roused to act upon ourselves, unless we engage in the 



SELF-CULTURE. 407 

Work of self-improvement, unless we purpose strenu- 
ously to form and elevate our own minds, unless what 
we hear is made a part of ourselves b) r conscientious 
reflection, very little permanent good is received. 

Self-culture, I am aware, is a topic too extensive for 
a single discourse, and I shall be able to present but a 
few views which seem to me most important. My aim 
.will be, to give first the Idea of self-culture, next its 
rMeans, and then to consider some objections to the 
leading views which I am now to lay before you. 

Before entering on the discussion, let me offer one 
remark. Self-culture is something possible. It is not 
a dream. It has foundations in our nature. With- 
out this conviction, the speaker will but declaim, and 
the hearer listen without profit. There are two powers 
of the human soul which make self-culture possible, the 
self-searching and the self-forming power. We have 
first the faculty of turning the mind on itself; of re- 
calling its past, and watching its present operations ; of 
learning its various capacities and susceptibilities, what 
it can do and bear, what it can enjoy and suffer ; and of 
thus learning in general what our nature is, and what 
it was made for. It is worthy of observation, that we 
are able to discern not only what we already are, but 
what we may become, to see in ourselves germs and 
promises of a growth to which no bounds can be set, 
to dart beyond what we have actually gained to the 
idea of Perfection as the end of our being. It is by this 
self-comprehending power that we are distinguished from 
the brutes, which give no signs of looking into them- 
selves Without this there would be no self-culture, 
for we should not know the work to be done ; and one 
reason why self-culture is so little proposed is, that so 



408 SELF-CULTURE. 

few penetrate into their own nature. To most men, 
their own spirits are shadowy, unreal, compared with 
what is outward. When they happen to cast a glance 
inward, they see there only a dark, vague chaos. They 
distinguish perhaps some violent passion, which has 
driven them to injurious excess ; but their highest pow- 
ers hardly attract a thought ; and thus multitudes live 
and die as truly strangers to themselves, as to countries 
of which they have heard the name, but which human 
foot has never trodden. 

But self-culture is possible, not only because we can 
enter into and search ourselves. We have a still nobler 
power, that of acting on, determining and forming our- 
selves. This is a fearful as well as glorious endowment, 
for it is the ground of human responsibility. We have 
the power not only of tracing our powers, but of guid- 
ing and impelling them ; not only of watching our pas- 
sions, but of controlling them ; not only of seeing our 
faculties grow, but of applying to them means and in- 
fluences to aid their growth. We can stay or change 
the current of thought. We can concentrate the intel- 
lect on objects which we wish to comprehend. We 
can fix our eyes on perfection, and make almost every- 
thing speed us towards it. This is indeed a noble 
prerogative of our nature. Possessing this, it matters 
little what or where w T e are now, for we can conquer a 
better lot, and even be happier for starting from the 
lowest point. Of all the discoveries which men need to 
make, the most important at the present moment, is that 
of the self-forming power treasured up in themselves. 
They little suspect its extent, as little as the savage 
apprehends the energy which the mind is created to 
exert on the material world. It transcends in impor- 



S3LF-CULTURE. 409 

tance all our power over outward nature. There is 
more of divinity in it, than in the force which impels 
the outward universe ; and yet how little we compre- 
hend it ! How it slumbers in most men unsuspected, 
unused ! This makes self-culture possible, and binds 
it on us as a solemn duty. 

I. I am first to unfold the idea of self-culture ; and 
this, in its most general form, may easily be seized. 
To cultivate any thing, be it a plant, an animal, a mind, 
is to make grow. Growth, expansion is the end. 
Nothing admits culture, but that which has a principle 
of life, capable of being expanded. He, therefore, who 
does what he can to unfold all his powers and capaci- 
ties, especially his nobler ones, so as to become a well 
proportioned, vigorous, excellent, happy being, practi- 
ses self-culture. 

This culture, of course, has various branches cor- 
responding to the different capacities of human nature ; 
but, though various, they are intimately united and make 
progress together. The soul, which our philosophy 
divides into various capacities, is still one essence, one 
life ; and it exerts at the same moment, and blends in 
the same act, its various energies of thought, feeling, 
and volition. Accordingly, in a wise self-culture, all the 
principles of our nature grow at once by joint, harmo- 
nious action, just as all parts of the plant are unfolded 
together. When therefore you hear of different branch- 
es of self-improvement, you will not think of them as 
distinct processes going on independently of each other, 
and requiring each its own separate means. Still a 
distinct consideration of these is needed to a full com- 
ii 



410 SELF-CULTURE. 

prehension of the subject, and these I shall proceed to 
unfold. 

First, self-culture is Moral, a branch of singular im- 
portance. When a man looks into himself, he discovers 
two distinct orders or kinds of principles, which it be- 
hoves him especially to comprehend. He discovers 
desires, appetites, passions, which terminate in himself, 
which crave and seek his own interest, gratification, 
distinction ; and he discovers another principle, an an- 
tagonist to these, which is Impartial, Disinterested, 
Universal, enjoining on him a regard to the rights and 
happiness of other beings, and laying on him obliga- 
tions which must be discharged, cost what they may, 
or however they may clash with his particular pleasure 
or gain. No man, however narrowed to his own in- 
terest, however hardened by selfishness, can deny, that 
there springs up within him a great idea in opposition 
to interest, the idea of Duty, that an inward voice 
calls him more or less distinctly, to revere and exercise 
Impartial Justice, and Universal Good-will. This dis- 
interested principle in human nature we call sometimes 
reason, sometimes conscience, sometimes the moral sense 
or faculty. But, be its name what it may, it is a real 
principle in each of us, and it is the supreme power 
within us, to be cultivated above all others, for on its 
culture, the right developement of all others depends. 
The passions indeed may be stronger than the con- 
science, may lift up a louder voice ; but their clamor 
differs wholly from the tone of command in which the 
conscience speaks. They are not clothed with its 
authority, its binding power. In their very triumphs 
they are rebuked by the moral principle, and often 
cower before its still, deep, menacing voice. No part 



SELF-CULTURE. 411 

of self-knowledge is more important than to discern 
clearly these two great principles, the self-seeking and 
the disinterested ; and the most important part of self- 
culture is to depress the former, and to exalt the latter, 
or to enthrone the sense of duty within us. There are 
no limits to the growth of this moral force in man, if 
he will cherish it faithfully. There have been men, 
whom no power in the universe could turn from the 
Right, by whom death in its most dreadful forms has 
been less dreaded, than transgression of the inward law 
of universal justice and love. 

In the next place, self-culture is Religious. When 
w 7 e look into ourselves, we discover powers, which link 
us with this outward, visible, finite, ever-changing world. 
We have sight and other senses to discern, and limbs 
and various faculties to secure and appropriate the ma- 
terial creation. And we have, too, a power, which 
cannot stop at what we see and handle, at what exists 
within the bounds of space and time, which seeks for 
the Infinite, Uncreated Cause, which cannot rest till it 
ascend to the Eternal, All-comprehending Mind. This 
we call the religious principle, and its grandeur cannot 
be exaggerated by human language ; for it marks out 
a being destined for higher communion than with the 
visible universe. To develope this, is eminently to 
educate ourselves. The true idea of God, unfolded 
clearly and livingly within us, and moving us to adore 
and obey him, and to aspire after likeness to him, is 
the noblest growth in human, and, I may add, in celes- 
tial natures. The religious principle, and the moral, 
are intimately connected, and grow together. The 
former is indeed the perfection and highest manifesta- 
tion of the latter. They are both disinterested. It is 



412 SELF-CULTURE. i 

the essence of true religion to recognise and adore in 
God the attributes of Impartial Justice and Universal 
Love, and to hear him commanding us in the conscience 
to become what we adore. 

Again. Self-culture is Intellectual. We cannot look 
into ourselves without discovering the intellectual prin- 
ciple, the power which thinks, reasons, and judges, the 
power of seeking and acquiring truth. This, indeed, 
we are in no danger of overlooking. The intellect be- 
ing the great instrument by which men compass their 
wishes, it draws more attention than any of our other 
powers. When we speak to men of improving them- 
selves, the first thought which occurs to them is, that 
they must cultivate their understanding, and get knowl- 
edge and skill. By education, men mean almost ex- 
clusively intellectual training. For this, schools and 
colleges are instituted, and to this the moral and reli- 
gious discipline of the young is sacrificed. Now I rev- 
erence, as much as any man, the intellect ; but let us 
never exalt it above the moral principle. With this it 
is most intimately connected. In this its culture is 
founded, and to exalt this is its highest aim. Whoever 
desires that his intellect may grow up to soundness, to 
healthy vigor, must begin with moral discipline. Read- 
ing and study are not enough to perfect the power of 
tnought. One thing above all is needful, and that is, 
the Disinterestedness which is the very soul of virtue. 
To gain truth, which is the great object of the under- 
standing, I must seek it disinterestedly. Here is the 
first and grand condition of intellectual progress. I must 
choose to receive the truth, no matter how it bears on 
myself. I must follow it, no matter where it leads, 
what interests it opposes, to what persecution or loss it 



SELF-CULTURE. , 413 

lays me open, from what party it severs me, or to what 
party it allies. Without this fairness of mind, which is 
only another phrase for disinterested love of truth, great 
native powers of understanding are perverted and led 
astray ; genius runs wild ; " the light within us becomes 
darkness^" The subtilest reasoners, for want of this, 
cheat themselves as well as others, and become entan- 
gled in the web of their own sophistry. It is a fact 
well known in the history of science and philosophy, 
that men, gifted by nature with singular intelligence, 
have broached the grossest errors, and even sought to 
undermine the grand primitive truths on which human 
virtue, dignity, and hope depend. And, on the other 
hand, I have known instances of men of naturally mod- 
erate powers of mind, who, by a disinterested love of 
truth and their fellow-creatures, have gradually risen to 
no small force and enlargement of thought. Some of 
the most useful teachers in the pulpit and in schools, 
have owed their power of enlightening others, not so^ 
much to any natural superiority, as to the simplicity, 
impartiality, and disinterestedness of their minds, to 
their readiness to live and die for the truth. A man, 
who rises above himself, looks from an eminence on 
nature and providence, on society and life. Thought 
expands, as by a natural elasticity, when the pressure 
of selfishness is removed. The moral and religious 
principles of the soul, generously cultivated, fertilize 
the intellect. Duty, faithfully performed, opens the 
mind to truth, both being of one family, alike immuta- 
ble, universal, and everlasting. 

I have enlarged on this subject, because the connex- 
ion between moral and intellectual culture is often over- 
looked, and because the former is often sacrificed to 
31 ii* 



414 SELF-CULTURE. 

the latter. The exaltation of talent, as it is called? 
above virtue and religion, is the curse of the age. Edu- 
cation is now chiefly a stimulus to learning, and thus 
men acquire power without the principles which alone 
make it a good. Talent is worshipped ; but, if di- 
vorced from rectitude, it will prove more of a demon 
than a god. 

Intellectual culture consists, not chiefly, as many are 
apt to think, in accumulating information, though this 
is important, but in building up a force of thought which 
may be turned at will on any subjects, on which we are 
called to pass judgment. This force is manifested in 
the concentration of the attention, in accurate, pene- 
trating observation, in reducing complex subjects to 
their elements, in diving beneath the effect to the cause, 
in detecting the more subtile differences and resemblan- 
ces of things, in reading the future in the present, and 
especially in rising from particular facts to general laws 
or universal truths. This last exertion of the intellect, 
its rising to broad views and great principles, consti- 
tutes what is called the philosophical mind, arid is es- 
pecially worthy of culture. 'What it means, your own 
observation must have taught you. You must have 
taken note of two classes of men, the one always em- 
ployed on details, on particular facts, and the other 
using these facts as foundations of higher, wider truths. 
The latter are philosophers. For example, men had 
for ages seen pieces of wood, stones, metals falling to 
the ground. Newton seized on these particular facts, 
and rose to the idea, that all matter tends, or is attract- 
ed, towards all matter, and then defined the law accord- 
ing to which this attraction or force acts at different 
distances, thus giving us a grand principle, which, we 



SELF-CULTUJfcE. 415 

have reason to think, extends to and controls the whole 
outward creation. One man reads a history, and can 
tell you all its events, and there stops. Another com- 
bines these events, brings them under one view, and 
learns the great causes which are at work on this or 
another nation, and what are its great tendencies, wheth- 
er to freedom or despotism, to one or another form of 
civilization. So, one man talks continually about the 
particular actions of this or another neighbour ; whilst 
another looks beyond the acts to the inward principle 
from which they spring, and gathers from them larger 
views of human nature. In a word, one man sees all 
things apart and in fragments, whilst another strives to 
discover the harmony, connexion, unity of all. One 
of the great evils of society is, that men, occupied per- 
petually with petty details, want general truths, want 
broad and fixed principles. Hence many, not wicked, 
are unstable, habitually inconsistent, as if they were 
overgrown children rather than men. To build up that 
strength of mind, which apprehends and cleaves to great 
universal truths, is the highest intellectual self-culture ; 
and here I wish you to observe how entirely this cul- 
ture agrees with that of the moral and the religious prin- 
ciples of our nature, of which I have previously spoken. 
In each of these, the improvement of the soul consists 
in raising it above what is narrow, particular, individual, 
selfish, to the universal and unconfined. To improve 
h man, is to liberalize, enlarge him in thought, feeling, 
and purpose. Narrowness of intellect and heart, this 
is the degradation from which all culture aims to rescue 
the human being. 

Again. Self-culture is social, or one of its great of- 
fices is to unfold and purify the affections, which spring 



416 SELF-CULTURE. 

up instinctively in the human breast, which bind togeth* 
er husband and wife, parent and child, brother and sis- 
ter ; which bind a man to friends and neighbours, to hk 
country, and to the suffering who fall under his eye, 
wherever they belong. The culture of these is an im- 
portant part of our work, and it consists in converting 
them from instincts into principles, from natural into 
spiritual attachments, in giving them a rational, moral, 
and holy character. For example, our affection for our 
children is at first instinctive ; and if it continue such, 
it rises little above the brute's attachment to its young. 
But when a parent infuses into his natural love for his 
offspring, moral and religious principle, when he comes 
to regard his child as an intelligent, spiritual, immortal 
being, and honors him as such, and desires first of all 
to make him disinterested, noble, a worthy child of 
God and the friend of his race, then the instinct rises 
into a generous and holy sentiment. It resembles God's 
paternal love for his spiritual family. A like purity 
and dignity we must aim to give to all our affections. 

Again. Self-culture is Practical, or it proposes, as 
one of its chief ends, to fit us for action, to make us 
efficient in whatever we undertake, to train us to firm- 
ness of purpose and to fruitfulness of resource in com- 
mon life, and especially in emergencies, in times of 
difficulty, danger, and trial. But passing over this and 
other topics for which I have no time, I shall confine 
myself to two branches of self-culture which have been 
almost wholly overlooked in the education of the peo« 
pie, and which ought not to be so slighted. 

In looking at our nature, we discover, among its ad- 
mirable endowments, the sense or perception of Beauty. 
We see the germ of this in every human being, and 



SELF-CULTURE. 417 

there is no power which admits greater cultivation ; 
and why should it not be cherished in all ? It deserves 
remark, that the provision for this principle is infinite 
in the universe. There is but a very minute portion of 
the creation which we can turn into food and clothes, 
or gratification for the body ; but the whole creation 
may be used to minister to the sense of beauty. Beauty 
is an all-pervading presence. It unfolds in the number- 
less flowers of the spring. It waves in the branches of 
the trees and the green blades of grass. It haunts the 
depths of the earth and sea, and gleams out in the hues 
of the shell and the precious stone. And not only 
these minute objects, but the ocean, the mountains, the 
clouds, the heavens, the stars, the rising and setting 
sun, all overflow with beauty. The universe is its tem- 
ple ; and those men, who are alive to it, cannot lift their 
eyes without feeling themselves encompassed with it on 
every side. Now this beauty is so precious, the enjoy- 
ments it gives are so refined and pure, so congenial with 
our tenderest and noble feelings, and so akin to wor- 
ship, that it is painful to think of the multitude of men 
as living in the midst of it, and living almost as blind 
to it, as if, instead of this fair earth and glorious sky, 
they were tenants of a dungeon. An infinite joy is lost 
to the world by the want of culture of this spiritual en- 
dowment. Suppose that I were to visit a cottage, and 
to see its walls lined with the choicest pictures of Ra- 
phael, and every spare nook filled with statues of the 
most exquisite workmanship, and that I were to learn, 
that neither man, woman, nor child ever cast an eye 
at these miracles of art, how should I feel their priva- 
tion ; how should I want to open their eyes, and to 
help them to comprehend and feel the loveliness and 
31* 



418 SELF-CULTURE. 

grandeur which in vain courted their notice ! But every 
husbandman is living in sight of the works of a diviner 
Artist ; and how much would his existence be elevated, 
could he see the glory which shines forth in their forms , 
hues, proportions, and moral expression ! I Live spok- 
en only of the beauty of nature, but how much of this 
mysterious charm is found in the elegant arts, and es- 
pecially in literature ? The best books have most beau- 
ty. The greatest truths are wronged if not linked with 
beauty, and they win their way most surely and deeply 
into the soul when arrayed in this their natural and fit 
attire. Now no man receives the true culture of a 
man, in whom the sensibility to the beautiful is not cher- 
ished ; and I know of no condition in life from which 
it should be excluded. Of all luxuries, this is the 
cheapest and most at hand ; and it seems to me to be 
most important to those conditions, where coarse labor 
tends to give a grossness to the mind. From the diffu- 
sion of the sense of beauty in ancient Greece, and of 
the taste for music in modern Germany, we learn that 
the people at large may partake of refined gratifications, 
which have hitherto been thought to be necessarily re- 
stricted to a few. 

What beauty is, is a question which the most pene- 
trating minds have not satisfactorily answered ; nor, 
were I able, is this the place for discussing it. But 
one thing I would say ; the beauty of the outward crea- 
tion is intimately related to the lovely, grand, interesting 
attributes of the soul. It is the emblem or expression 
of these. Matter becomes beautiful to us, when it 
seems to lose its material aspect, its inertness, finite- 
ness, and grossness, and by the etherial lightness of its 
forms and motions seems to approach spirit ; when h 



SELE-CULT URE. 419 

images to us pure and gentle affections ; when it spreads 
out into a vastness which is a shadow of the Infinite ; or 
when in more awful shapes and movements it speaks of 
the Omnipotent. Thus outward beauty is akin to some- 
thing deeper and unseen, is the reflection of sphitual 
attributes ; and of consequence the way to see and feel 
it more and more keenly, is to cultivate those moral, re- 
ligious, intellectual, and social principles of which I have 
already spoken, and which are the glory of the spiritual 
nature ; and I name this, that you may see, what I am 
anxious to show, the harmony which subsists among all 
branches of human culture, or how each forwards and is 
aided by all. 

There is another power, which each man should cul- 
tivate according to his ability, but which is very much 
neglected in the mass of the people, and that is, the 
power of Utterance. A man was not made to shut up 
his mind in itself ; but to give it voice and to exchange it 
for other minds. Speech is one of our grand distinc- 
tions from the brute. Our power over others lies not 
so much in the amount of thought within us, as in the 
power of bringing it out. A man, of more than ordi- 
nary intellectual vigor, may, for want of expression, 
be a cipher, without significance, in society. And not 
only does a man influence others, but he greatly aids his 
own intellect, by giving distinct and forcible utterance to 
his thoughts. We understand ourselves better, our con- 
ceptions grow clearer, by the very effort to make them 
clear to another. Our social rank, too, depends a good 
deal on our power of utterance. The principal dis- 
tinction between what are called gentlemen and the 
vulgar lies in this, that the latter are awkward in man- 
ners, and are especially wanting in propriety, clearness, 



420 SELF-CULTURE. 

grace, and force of utterance. A man who cannot 
open his lips without breaking a rule of grammar, with- 
out showing in his dialect or brogue or uncouth tones his 
want of cultivation, or without darkening his meaning 
by a confused, unskilful mode of communication, can- 
not take the place to which, perhaps, his native good 
sense entitles him. To have intercourse with respecta- 
ble people, we must speak their language. On this 
account, I am glad that grammar and a correct pronun- 
ciation are taught in the common schools of this city. 
These are not trifles ; nor are they superfluous to any 
class of people. They give a man access to social 
advantages, on which his improvement very much de- 
pends. The power of utterance should be included by 
all in their plans of self-culture. 

I have now given a few views of the culture, the 
improvement, which every man should propose to him- 
self. I have all along gone on the principle, that a man 
has within him capacities of growth, which deserve and 
will reward intense, unrelaxing toil. I do not look on 
a human being as a machine, made to be kept in action 
by a foreign force, to accomplish an unvarying succes- 
sion of motions, to do a fixed amount of work, and then 
to fall to pieces at death, but as a being of free spiritual 
powers ; and I place little value on any culture, but 
that which aims to bring out these and to give them 
perpetual impulse and expansion. I am aware, that 
this view is far from being universal. The common 
notion has been, that the mass of the people need no 
other culture than is necessary to fit them for their 
various trades ; and, though this error is passing away, 
it is far from being exploded. But the ground of a 



SELF-CULTURE. 421 

man's culture lies in his nature, not in his calling. His 
powers are to be unfolded on account of their inherent 
dignity, not their outward direction. He is to be edu- 
cated, because he is a man, not because he is to make 
shoes, nails, or pins. A trade is plainly not the great 
end of his being, for his mind cannot be shut up in it ; 
his force of thought cannot be exhausted on it. He has 
faculties to which it gives no action, and deep wants it 
cannot answer. Poems, and systems of theology and 
philosophy, which have made some noise in the world, 
have been wrought at the work-bench and amidst the 
toils of the field. How often, when the arms . are me- 
chanically plying a trade, does the mind, lost in reverie 
or day-dreams, escape to the ends of the earth ! How 
often does the pious heart of woman mingle the greatest 
of all thoughts, that of God, with household drudgery ! 
Undoubtedly a man is to perfect himself in his trade, 
for by it he is to earn his bread and to serve the com- 
munity. But bread or subsistence is not his highest 
good ; for, if it were, his lot would be harder than that 
of the inferior animals, for whom nature spreads a table 
and weaves a wardrobe, without a care of their own. 
Nor was he made chiefly to minister to the wants of the 
community. A rational, moral being cannot, without 
infinite wrong, be converted into a mere instrument of 
others' gratification. He is necessarily an end, not a 
means. A mind, in which are sown the seeds of wis- 
dom, disinterestedness, firmness of purpose, and piety, 
is worth more than all the outward material interests of 
a world. It exists for itself, for its own perfection, and 
must not be enslaved to its own or others' animal wants 
You tell me, that a liberal culture is needed for men 
who are to fill high stations, but not for such as are 
jj 



\'l'l SELF-CULTURE. 

doomed to vulgar labor. 1 answer, that MaD is a greater 

name than President or King. Truth and goodness are 
equally precious, in whatever sphere they are found. 
Besides, men of all conditions sustain equally the rela- 
tions, which give birth to the highest virtues and de- 
mand the highest powers. The laborer is not a mere 
laborer. He has close, tender, responsible connections 
with God and his fellow-creatures. He is a son, hus- 
band, father, friend, and Christian. He belongs to a 
home, a country, a church, a race ; and is such a man 
to be cultivated only for a trade ? Was he not sent 
into the -world for a great work ? To educate a child 
perfectly requires profounder thought, greater wisdom, 
than to govern a state ; and for this plain reason, that 
the interests and wants of the latter are more super- 
ficial, coarser, and more obvious,- than the spiritual 
capacities, the growth of thought and feeling, and the 
subtile laws of the mind, which must all be studied and 
comprehended, before the work of education can be 
thoroughly performed ; and yet to ail conditions this 
greatest work on earth is equally committed by God. 
What plainer proof do we need that a higher culture, 
than has yet been dreamed of, is needed by our whole 
race ? 

II. I now proceed to inquire into the Means, by 
which the self-culture, just described, may be pro- 
moted ; and here I know not where to begin. T*he 
subject is so extensive, as well as important, that I feel 
myself unable to do any justice to it, especially in the 
limits to which I am confined. I bes; you to consider 
me as presenting but hints, and such as have offered 
themselves with very little research to my own mind. 



SELF-CULTURE. 



92 



And, first, the great means of self-culture, that which 
includes all the rest, is to fasten on this culture as our 
Great End, to determine deliberately and solemnly, 
that we will make the most and the best of the powers 
which God has given us. Without this resolute pur- 
pose, the best means are worth little, and with it the 
poorest become mighty. You may see thousands, with 
every opportunity of improvement which wealth can 
gather, with teachers, libraries, and apparatus, bringing 
nothing to pass, and others, with few helps, doing won- 
ders ; and simply because the latter are in earnest, and 
the former not.- A man in earnest finds means, or, if 
he cannot find, creates them. A vigorous purpose 
makes much out of little, breathes power into weak in- 
struments, disarms difficulties, and even turns them into 
assistances. Every condition has means of progress, 
if we have spirit enough to use them. Some volumes 
have recently been published, giving examples or his- 
tories of ''knowledge acquired under difficulties"; and 
it is most animating to see in these what a resolute man 
can do for himself. A great idea, like this of Self- 
culture, if seized on clearly and vigorously, burns like 
a living coal in the soul. He who deliberately adopts 
a great end, has, by this act, half accomplished it, has 
scaled the chief barrier to success. 

One thing is essential to the strong purpose of self- 
culture now insisted on, namely, faith in the practicable- 
ness of this culture. A great object, to awaken reso- 
lute choice, must be seen to be within our reach. The 
truth, that progress is the very end of our being, must 
not be received as a tradition, but comprehended and 
felt as a reality. Our minds are apt to pine and starve, 
by being imprisoned within what we have already at- 



424 SELF-CULTURE. 

tained. A true faith, looking up to something better, 
catching glimpses of a distant perfection, prophesying 
to ourselves improvements proportioned to our consci- 
entious labors, gives energy of purpose, gives wings to 
the soul ; and this faith will continually grow, by ac- 
quainting ourselves with our own nature, and with the 
promises of Divine help and immortal life which abound 
in Revelation. 

Some are discouraged from proposing to themselves 
improvement, by the false notion, that the study of 
books, which their situation denies them, is the all-im- 
portant, and only sufficient means. Let such consider, 
that the grand volumes, of which all our books are 
transcripts, I mean nature, revelation, the human soul, 
and human life, are freely unfolded to every eye. The 
great sources of wisdom are experience and observa- 
tion ; and these are denied to none. To open and fix 
our eyes upon what passes without and within us, is 
the most fruitful study. Books are chiefly useful, as 
they help us to interpret what we see and experience. 
When they absorb men, as they sometimes do, and turn 
them from observation of nature.and life, they generate 
a learned folly, for which the plain sense of the laborer 
could not be exchanged but at great loss. It deserves 
attention that the greatest men have been formed with- 
out the studies, which at present are thought by many 
most needful to improvement. Homer, Plato, Demos- 
thenes, never heard the name of chemistry, and knew 
less of the solar system than a boy in our common 
schools. Not that these sciences are unimportant ; but 
the lesson is, that human improvement never wants the 
means, where the purpose of it is deep and earnest is 
the souL 



SELF-CULT UitE. 425 

The purpose of self-culture, this is the life and 
strength of all the methods we use for our own eleva- 
tion. I reiterate this principle on account of its grea» 
importance ; and I would add a remark to prevent its 
misapprehension. When I speak of the purpose of self- 
culture, I mean, that it should be sincere. In other 
words, we must make self-culture really and truly our 
end, or choose it for its own sake, and not merely as 
a means or instrument of something else. And here I 
touch a common and very pernicious error. Not a few 
persons desire to improve themselves only to get prop- 
erty and to rise in the world ; but such do not properly 
choose improvement, but something outward and foreign 
to themselves ; and so low an impulse can produce only 
a stinted, partial, uncertain growth. A man, as I have 
said, is to cultivate himself because he is a man. He 
is to start with the conviction, that there is something 
greater within him than in the whole material creation, 
than in all the worlds which press on the eye and ear ; 
and that inward improvements have a worth and dignity 
in themselves, quite distinct from the power they give 
over outward things. Undoubtedly a man is to labor 
to better his condition, but first to better himself. If 
he knows no higher use of his mind than to invent 
and drudge for his body, his case is desperate as far 
as culture is concerned. 

In these remarks, I do not mean to recommend to 
the laborer indifference to his outward lot. I hold it 
important, that every man in every class should possess 
the means of comfort, of health, of neatness in food 
and apparel, and of occasional retirement and leisure. 
These are good in themselves, to be sought for their 
own sakes, and still more, they are important means of 
32 jj* 



42B SELF-CULT URE. 

the self-culture for which I am pleading. A clean* 
comfortable dwelling, with wholesome meals, is no small 
aid to intellectual and moral progress. A man living 
in a damp cellar or a garret open to rain and snow* 
breathing the foul air of a filthy room, and striving with- 
out success to appease hunger on scanty or unsavory 
food, is in danger of abandoning himself to a desperate? 
selfish recklessness. Improve then your lot. Multiply 
comforts, and still more get wealth if you can by honor- 
able means, and if it do not cost too much. A true 
cultivation of the mind is fitted to forward you in your 
worldly concerns, and you ought to use it for this end. 
Only, beware, lest this end master you ; lest your mo- 
tives sink as your condition improves ; lest you fall 
victims to the miserable passion of vying with those 
around you in show, luxury, and expense. Cherish a 
true respect for yourselves. Feel that your nature is 
worth more than every thing which is foreign to you. 
He who has not caught a glimpse of his own rational 
and spiritual being, of something within himself superior 
to the world and allied to the divinity, wants the true 
spring of that purpose of self-culture, on which I have 
insisted as the first of all the means of improvement. 

I proceed to another important means of self-culture, 
and this is the control of the animal appetites. To 
raise the moral and intellectual nature, we must put 
down the animal. Sensuality is the abyss in which 
very many souls are plunged and lost. Among the 
most prosperous classes, what a vast amount of intel- 
lectual life is drowned in luxurious excesses ! It is 
one great curse of wealth, that it is used to pamper the 
senses ; and among the poorer classes, though luxury 



SELF-CULT UUE. 427 

is wanting, yet a gross feeding often prevails, under 
which the spirit is whelmed. It is a sad sight to walk 
through our streets, and to see how many countenances 
bear marks of a lethargy and a brutal coarseness, in- 
duced by unrestrained indulgence. Whoever would 
cultivate the soul, must restrain the appetites. I am 
not an advocate for the doctrine, that animal food was 
not meant for man ; but that this is used among us to 
excess, that as a people we should gain much in cheer- 
fulness, activity, and buoyancy of mind, by less gross 
and stimulating food, I am strongly inclined to believe. 
Above all, let me urge on those, who would bring out 
and elevate their higher nature, to abstain from the use 
of spirituous liquors. This bad habit is distinguished 
from all others by the ravages it makes on the reason, 
the intellect ; and this effect is produced to a mournful 
extent, even when drunkenness is escaped. Not a few 
men, called temperate, and who have thought them- 
selves such, have learned, on abstaining from the use 
of ardent spirits, that for years their minds had been 
clouded, impaired by moderate drinking, without their 
suspecting the injury. Multitudes in this city are bereft 
of half their intellectual energy, by a degree of indul- 
gence which passes for innocent. Of all the foes of the 
working class, this is the deadliest. Nothing has done 
more to keep down this class, to destroy their self- 
respect, to rob them of their just influence in the com- 
munity, to render profitless the means of improvement 
within their reach, than the use of ardent spirits as a 
drink. They are called on to withstand this practice, 
as they regard their honor, and would take their just 
place in society. They are under solemn obligations 
to give their sanction to every effort for its suppression. 



428 SELF-CUI/TURE. 

They ought to regard as their worst enemies (though 
unintentionally such), as the enemies of their rights, 
dignity, and influence, the men who desire to flood city 
and country with distilled poison. I lately visited a 
flourishing village, and on expressing to one of the re- 
spected inhabitants the pleasure I felt in witnessing so 
many signs of progress, he replied, that one of the causes 
of the prosperity I witnessed, was the disuse of ardent 
spirits by the people. And this reformation we may 
be assured wrought something higher than outward pros- 
perity. In almost every family so improved, we can- 
not doubt that the capacities of the parent for intel- 
lectual and moral improvement were enlarged, and the 
means of education made more effectual to the child. 
I call on working men to take hold of the cause of 
temperance as peculiarly their cause. These remarks 
are the more needed, in consequence of the efforts made 
far and wide, to annul at the present moment a recent 
law for the suppression of the sale of ardent spirits in 
such quantities as favor intemperance. I know, that 
there are intelligent and good men, who believe, that, 
in enacting this law, government transcended its limits, 
left its true path, and established a precedent for legis- 
lative interference with all our pursuits and pleasures. 
No one here looks more jealously on government than 
myself. But I maintain, that this is a case which stands 
by itself, which can be confounded with no other, and 
on which government from its very nature and end is 
peculiarly bound to act. Let it never be forgotten, that 
the great end of government, its highest function, is, 
not to make roads, grant charters, originate improve- 
ments, but to prevent or repress Crimes against indi- 
vidual rights and social order. For this end it ordains 



SELF-CULTURE. 429 

a penal code, erects prisons, and inflicts fearful punish- 
ments. Now if it be true, that a vast proportion of 
the crimes, which government is instituted to prevent 
and repress, have their origin in the use of ardent spir- 
its ; if our poor-houses, work-houses, jails, and peniten- 
tiaries, are tenanted in a great degree by those whose 
first and chief impulse to crime came from the distillery 
and dram-shop ; if murder and theft, the most fearful 
outrages on property and life, are most frequently the 
issues and consummation of intemperance, is not gov- 
ernment bound to restrain by legislation the vending of 
the stimulus to these terrible social wrongs ? Is gov- 
ernment never to act as a parent, never to remove the 
causes or occasions of wrong-doing ? Has it but one 
instrument for repressing crime, namely, public, infa- 
mous punishment, an evil only inferior to crime ? Is 
government a usurper, does it wander beyond its sphere, 
by imposing restraints on an article, which does no im- 
aginable good, which can plead no benefit conferred on 
body or mind, which unfits the citizen for the discharge 
of his duty to his country, and which, above all, stirs 
up men to the perpetration of most of the crimes, from 
which it is the highest and most solemn office of gov- 
ernment to protect society ? 

I come now to another important measure of self- 
culture, and this is, intercourse with superior minds. 
I have insisted on our own activity as essential to our 
progress ; but we were not made to live or advance 
alone. Society is as needful to us as air or food. A 
child doomed to utter loneliness, growing up without 
sight or sound of human beings, would not put forth 
equal power with many brutes ; and a man, never brought 
32* 



430 SELF-CULT CUE. 

into contact with minds superior to his own, will proba- 
bly run one and the same dull round of thought and ac- 
tion to the end of life. 

It is chiefly through books that we enjoy intercourse 
with superior minds, and these invaluable means of 
communication are in the reach of all. In the best 
books, great men talk to us, give us their most precious 
thoughts, and pour their souls into ours. God be 
thanked for books. They are the voices of the distant 
and the dead, and make us heirs of the spiritual life 
of past ages. Books are the true levellers. They 
give to all, who will faithfully use them, the society, the 
spiritual presence, of the best and greatest of our race. 
No matter how poor I am. No matter though the 
prosperous of my own time will not enter my obscure 
dwelling. If the Sacred Writers will enter and take 
up their abode under my roof, if Milton will cross my 
threshold to sing to me of Paradise, and Shakspeare 
to open to me the worlds of imagination and the work- 
ings of the human heart, and Franklin to enrich me 
with his practical wisdom, I shall not pine for want of 
intellectual companionship, and I may become a cul- 
tivated man though excluded from what is called the 
best society in the place where I live. 

To make this means of culture effectual, a man must 
select good books, such as have been written by right- 
minded and strong-minded men, real thinkers, who in- 
stead of diluting by repetition what others say, have 
something to say for themselves, and write to give re- 
lief to full, earnest souls; and these works must not be 
skimmed over for amusement, but read with fixed atten- 
tion and a reverential love of truth. In selecting books., 
we may be aided much by those who have studied mGre 



SELF-CTJLTURE. 431 

lhan ourselves. But, after all, it is best to be deter- 
mined in this particular a good deal by our own tastes. 
The best books for a man are not always those which 
the wise recommend, but oftener those which meet the 
peculiar wants, the natural thirst of his mind, and there- 
fore awaken interest and rivet thought. And here it 
may be well to observe, not only in regard to books but 
in other respects, that self-culture must vary with the 
individual. All means do not equally suit us all. A 
man must unfold himself freely, and should respect the 
peculiar gifts or biases by which nature has distinguish- 
ed him from others. Self-culture does not demand the 
sacrifice of individuality. It does not regularly apply 
an established machinery, for the sake of torturing every 
man into one rigid shape, called perfection. As the 
human countenance, with the same features in us all, is 
diversified without end in the race, and is never the 
same in any two individuals, so the human soul, with 
the same grand powers and laws, expands into an infi- 
nite variety of forms, and would be wofully stinted by 
'modes of culture requiring all men to learn the same 
lesson or to bend to the same rules. 

I know how hard it is to some men, especially to 
those who spend much time in manual labor, to fix 
attention on books. Let them strive to overcome the 
difficulty, by choosing subjects of deep interest, or by 
reading in company with those whom they love. Noth- 
ing can supply the place of books. They are cheering 
or soothing companions in solitude, illness, affliction. 
The wealth of both continents would not compensate 
for the good they impart. Let every man, if possible, 
gather some good books under his roof, and obtain 
nccess for himself and family to some social library. 
Almost any luxury should be sacrificed to this. 



432 



SELF-CULTURE. 



One of the very interesting features of our times, 
is the multiplication of books, and their distribution 
through all conditions of society. At a small expense, 
a man can now possess himself of the most precious 
treasures of English literature. Books, once confined 
to a few by their costliness, are now accessible to the 
multitude ; and in this way a change of habits is going 
on in society, highly favorable to the culture of the peo- 
ple. Instead of depending on casual rumor and loose 
conversation for most of their knowledge and objects of 
thought ; instead of forming their judgments in crowds, 
and receiving their chief excitement from the voice of 
neighbours, men are now learning to study and reflect 
alone, to follow out subjects continuously, to determine 
for themselves what shall engage their minds, aud to 
call to their aid the knowledge, original views, and rea- 
sonings of men of all countries and ages ; and the re- 
sults must be, a deliberateness and independence of 
judgment, and a thoroughness and extent of informa- 
tion, unknown in former times. The diffusion of these 
silent teachers, books, through the whole community, 
is to work greater effects than artillery, machinery, and 
legislation. Its peaceful agency is to supersede stormy 
revolutions. The culture, which it is to spread, whilst 
an unspeakable good to the individual, is also to become 
the stability of nations. 

Another important means of self-culture, is to free 
ourselves from the power of human opinion and exam- 
ple, except as far as this is sanctioned by our own de- 
liberate judgment. We are all prone to keep the level 
of those we live with, to repeat their words, and dress 
our minds as well as bodies after their fashion; and 



SELF-CULTURE. 433 

hence the spiritless tameness of our characters and lives. 
Our greatest danger, is not from the grossly wicked 
around us, but from the worldly, unreflecting multitude, 
who are borne along as a stream by foreign impulse, and 
bear us along with them. Even the influence of supe- 
rior minds may harm us, by bowing us to servile acqui- 
escence and damping our spiritual activity. The great 
use of intercourse with other minds, is to stir up our 
own, to whet our appetite for truth, to carry our thoughts 
beyond their old tracks. We need connexions with 
great thinkers to make us thinkers too. One of the 
chief arts of self-culture, is to unite the childlike teach- 
ableness, which gratefully welcomes light from every 
human being who can give it, with manly resistance of 
opinions however current, of influences however gener- 
ally revered, which do not approve themselves to our 
deliberate judgment. You ought indeed patiently and 
conscientiously to strengthen your reason by other men's 
intelligence, but you must not prostrate it before them. 
Especially if there springs up within you any view of 
God's word or universe, any sentiment or aspiration 
which seems to you of a higher order than what you 
meet abroad, give reverent heed to it ; inquire into it 
earnestly, solemnly. Do not trust it blindly, for it may 
be an illusion ; but it may be the Divinity moving within 
you, a new revelation, not supernatural but still most 
precious, of truth or duty ; and if, after inquiry, it so 
appear, then let no clamor, or scorn, or desertion turn 
vou from it. Be true to your own highest convictions. 
Intimations from our own souls of something more per- 
fect than others teach, if faithfully followed, give us a 
consciousness of spiritual force and progress, never ex- 
perienced by the vulgar of high life or low life, who 
march, as they are drilled, to the step of their times. 

KK 



484 SELF-CULTURE. 

Some, I know, will wonder, that I should think the 
mass of the people capable of such intimations and 
glimpses of truth, as I have just supposed. These are 
commonly thought to be the prerogative of men of ge- 
nius, who seem to be born to give law to the minds of 
the multitude. Undoubtedly nature has her nobility, 
and sends forth a few to be eminently "lights of the 
world." But it is also true that a portion of the same 
divine fire is given to all; for the many could not re- 
ceive with a loving reverence the quickening influences 
of the few, were there not essentially the same spiritual 
life in both. The minds of the multitude are not masses 
of passive matter, created to receive impressions unre- 
sistingly from abroad. They are not wholly shaped by 
foreign instruction ; but have a native force, a spring of 
thought in themselves. Even the child's mind outruns 
its lessons, and overflows in questionings which bring 
the wisest to a stand. Even the child starts the great 
problems, which philosophy has labored to solve for ages. 
But on this subject I cannot now enlarge. Let me only 
say, that the power of original thought is particularly 
manifested in those who thirst for progress, who are 
bent on unfolding their whole nature. A man who wakes 
up to the consciousness of having been created for pro- 
gress and perfection, looks with new eyes on himself and 
on the world in which he lives. This great truth stirs 
the soul from its depths, breaks up old associations of 
ideas, and establishes new ones, just as a mighty agent 
of chemistry, brought into contact with natural substan- 
ces, dissolves the old affinities which had bound their 
particles together, and arranges them anew. This truth 
particularly aids us to penetrate the mysteries of human 
life. By revealing to us the end of our being, it helps 



SELP-OULTUItE. 435 

«s to comprehend more and more the wonderful, the in- 
finite system, to which we belong. A man in the com- 
mon walks of life, who has faith in perfection, in the 
unfolding of the human spirit, as the great purpose of 
God, possesses more the secret of the universe, per- 
ceives more the harmonies or mutual adaptations of the 
world without and the world within him, is a wiser inter - 
preter of Providence, and reads nobler lessons of duty 
in the events which pass before him, than the profound- 
est philosopher who wants this grand central truth. Thus 
illuminations, inward suggestions, are not confined to a 
favored few, but visit all who devote themselves to a 
generous self-culture. 

Another means of self-culture may be found by every 
man in his Condition or Occupation, be it what it may. 
Had I time, I might go through all conditions of life, 
from the most conspicuous to the most obscure, and 
might show how each furnishes continual aids to im- 
provement. But I will take one example, and that is, 
of a man living by manual labor. This may be made 
the means of self-culture. For instance, in almost all 
labor, a man exchanges his strength for an equivalent 
in the form of wages, purchase-money, or some other 
product. In other words, labor is a system of contracts, 
bargains, imposing mutual obligations. Now the man, 
who, in working, no matter in what way, strives perpet- 
ually to fulfil his obligations thoroughly, to do his whole 
work faithfully, to be honest not because honesty is the 
best policy, but for the sake of justice, and that he may 
render to every man his due, such a laborer is continu- 
ally building up in himself one of the greatest principles 
of morality and religion. Every blow on the anvil, on 



436 tiELi'-CUUrURE, 

the earth, or whatever material he works upon, contrib- 
utes something to the perfection of his nature. 

Nor is this all. Labor is a school of benevolence as 
well as justice. A man to support himself must serve 
others. He must do or produce something for their 
comfort or gratification. This is one of the beautiful 
ordinations of Providence, that, to get a living, a man 
must be useful. Now this usefulness ought to be an end 
in his labor as truly as to earn his living. He ought to 
think of the benefit of those he works for, as well as of 
his own ; and in so doing, in desiring amidst his sweat 
and toil to serve others as well as himself, he is exer- 
cising and growing in benevolence, as truly as if he were 
distributing bounty with a large hand to the poor. Such 
a motive hallows and dignifies the commonest pursuit. 
It is strange, that laboring men do not think more of the 
vast usefulness of their toils, and take a benevolent pleas- 
ure in them on this account. This beautiful city, with 
its houses, furniture, markets, public walks, and number- 
less accommodations, has grown up under the hands of 
artisans and other laborers, and ought they not to take 
a disinterested joy in their work ? One would think, 
that a carpenter or mason, on passing a house which he 
had reared, would say to himself, " This work of mine 
is giving comfort and enjoyment every day and hour to 
a family, and will continue to be a kindly shelter, a do- 
mestic gathering-place, an abode of affection, for a cen- 
tury or more after I sleep in the dust ; " and ought not a 
generous satisfaction to spring up at the thought ? It is 
by thus interweaving goodness with common labors, that 
we give it strength and make it a habit of the soul. 

Again. Labor may be so performed as to be a high 
impulse to the mind. Be a man's vocation what it may^ 



SELF-CULTURE. 437 

his rule should be to do its duties perfectly, to do the 
best he can, and thus to make perpetual progress in his 
art. In other words, Perfection should be proposed ; 
and this I urge not only for its usefulness to society, nor 
for the sincere pleasure which a man takes in seeing a 
work well done. This is an important means of self- 
culture. In this way the idea of Perfection takes root 
in the mind, and spreads far beyond the man's trade. 
He gets a tendency towards completeness in whatever 
he undertakes. Slack, slovenly performance in any de- 
partment of life is more apt to offend him. His stand- 
ard of action rises, and every thing is better done for his 
thoroughness in his common vocation. 

There is one circumstance attending all conditions 
of life, which may and ought to be turned to the use 
of self-culture. Every condition, be it what it may, 
has hardships, hazards, pains. We try to escape them ; 
we pine for a sheltered lot, for a smooth path, for cheer- 
ing friends, and unbroken success. But Providence or* 
dains storms, disasters, hostilities, sufferings ; and the 
great question, whether we shall live to any purpose or 
not, whether we shall grow strong in mind and heart, or 
be weak and pitiable, depends on nothing so much as on 
our use of these adverse circumstances. Outward evils 
are designed to school our passions, and to rouse our 
faculties and virtues into intenser action. Sometimes 
they seem to create new powers. Difficulty is the ele- 
ment, and resistance the true work of a man. Self- 
culture never goes on so fast, as when embarrassed cir- 
cumstances, the opposition of men or the elements, 
unexpected changes of the times, or other forms of 
suffering, instead of disheartening, throw us on our in- 
ward resources, turn us for strength to God, clear up to 
33 KK* 



£ : SELT-CHLTOEE. 

as the great purpose of life, and inspire calm resoluiio^. 
No greatness or goodness is worth much, unless tried 
in these fires. Hardships are not on this account to be 
sought for. They come fast enough of themselves, and 
we are in more danger of sinking under, than of needing 
them. But when God sends them, they are noble means 
of self-culture, and as such, let us meet and bear them 
cheerfully. Thus all parts of our condition may be 
pressed into the service of self- improvement. 

I have time to consider but one more means of self- 
culture. "We find it -in our Free Government, in our 
Political relations and duties. It is a great benefit of 
free institutions, that they do much to awaken and keep 
in action a natioms mind. We are told, that the educa- 
tion of the multitude is necessary to the support of a 
republic ; but it is equally true, that a republic is a pow- 
erful means of educating the multitude. It is the peo- 
ple's University. In a free state, solemn responsibilities 
are imposed on every citizen ; great subjects are to be 
discussed : great interests to be decided. The individ- 
ual is called to determine measures affecting the well- 
being of millions and the destinies of posterity. He 
must consider not only the internal relations of his na- 
tive land, but its connexion with foreign states, and 
judge of a policy which touches the whole civilized 
world. He is called by his participation in the national 
sovereignty, to cherish public spirit, a regard to the gen- 
eral weal. A man who purposes to discharge faithfully 
these obligations, is carrying on a generous self-culture. 
The great public questions, which divide opinion around 
him and provoke earnest discussion, of necessity invig- 
orate his intellect, and accustom him to look beyond 



SELF-CULTURE. 439 

himself. He grows up to a robustness, force, enlarge- 
ment of mind, unknown under despotic rule. 

It may be said that I am describing what free insti- 
tutions ought to do for the character of the individual, 
not their actual effects ; and the objection, I must own, 
is too true. Our institutions do not cultivate us, as 
they might and should ; and the chief cause of the fail- 
ure is plain. It is the strength of party-spirit ; and so 
blighting is its influence, so fatal to self-culture, that 1 
feel myself bound to warn every man against it, who 
has any desire of improvement. I do not tell you it 
will destroy your country. It wages a worse war against 
yourselves. Truth, justice, candor, fair dealing, sound 
judgment, self-control, and kind affections, are its natu- 
ral and perpetual prey. 

I do not say, that you must take no side in politics. 
The parties which prevail around you differ in charac- 
ter, principles, and spirit, though far less than the ex- 
aggeration of passion affirms ; and, as far as conscience 
allows, a man should support that which he thinks best. 
In one respect, however, all parties agree. They all 
foster that pestilent spirit, which I now condemn. In 
all of them, party-spirit rages. Associate men togeth- 
er for a common cause, be it good or bad, and array 
against them a body resolutely pledged to an opposite 
iriterest, and a new passion, quite distinct from the ori- 
ginal sentiment which brought them together, a fierce, 
fiery zeal, consisting chiefly of aversion to those who 
differ from them, is roused within them into fearful ac- 
tivity. Human nature seems incapable of a stronger, 
more unrelenting passion. It is hard enough for an 
individual, when contending all alone for an interest or 
an opinion, to keep down his pride, wilfulness, love of 



440 SELF-CULTURE, 

victory, anger, and other personal feelings. But let 
him join a multitude in the same warfare, and, without 
singular self-control, he receives into his single breast, 
the vehemence, obstinacy, and vindictiveness of alL 
The triumph of his party becomes immeasurably dearer 
to him than the principle, true or false, which was the 
original ground cf division. The conflict becomes a 
struggle, not for principle, but for power, for victory ; 
and the desperateness, the wickedness of such struggles, 
is the great burden of history. In truth, it matters little 
what men divide about, whether it be a foot of land or 
precedence in a procession. Let them but begin to 
fight for it, and self-will, ill-will, the rage for victory, the 
dread of mortification and defeat, make the trifle as 
weighty as a matter of life and death. The Greek or 
Eastern empire was shaken to its foundation by parties, 
which differed only about the merits of charioteers at 
the amphitheatre. Party spirit is singularly hostile to 
moral independence. A man, in proportion as he drinks 
into it, sees, hears, judges by the senses and under- 
standings of his party. He surrenders the freedom of a 
man, the right of using and speaking his own mind, and 
echoes the applauses or maledictions, with which the 
leaders or passionate partisans see fit that the country 
should ring. On all points, parries are to be distrusted ; 
but on no one so much as on the character of oppo- 
nents. These, if you may trust what you hear, are 
always men without principle and truth, devoured by 
selfishness, and thirsting for their own elevation, though 
on their country's ruin. When I was young, I was ac- 
customed to hear pronounced with abhorrence, almost 
with execration, the names of men, who are now hailed 
by their former foes as the champions of grand princi- 



SELF-CULTURE. 441 

pics, and as worthy of the highest public trusts. This 
lesson of early experience, which later years have cor- 
roborated, will never be forgotten. 

Of our present political divisions I have of course 
nothing to say. But among the current topics of party, 
there are certain accusations and recriminations, ground- 
ed on differences of social condition, which seem to me 
so unfriendly to the improvement of individuals and the 
community, that I ask the privilege of giving them a 
moment's notice. On one side we are told, that the 
rich are disposed to trample on the poor ; and on the 
other, that the poor look with evil eye and hostile pur- 
pose on the possessions of the rich. These outcries 
seem to me alike devoid of truth and alike demoralizing. 
As for the rich, who constitute but a handful of our 
population, who possess not one peculiar privilege, and, 
what is more, who possess comparatively little of the 
property of the country, it is wonderful, that they should 
be objects of alarm. The vast and ever-growing prop- 
erty of this country, where is it ? Locked up in a few 
hands ? hoarded in a few strong boxes ? It is diffused 
like the atmosphere, and almost as variable, changing 
hands with the seasons, shifting from rich to poor, not 
by the violence but by the industry and skill of the lat- 
ter class. The wealth of the rich is as a drop in the 
ocean ; and it is a well-known fact, that those men among 
us, who are noted for their opulence, exert hardly any 
political power on the community. That the rich do 
their whole duty ; that they adopt; as they should, the 
great object of the social state, which is the elevation 
of the people in intelligence, character, and condition, 
cannot be pretended ; but that they feel for the physical 
sufferings of their brethren, that they stretch out liberal 
33* 



442 SELF-CULTURE. 

hands for the succour of the poor, and for the support 
of useful public institutions, cannot be denied. Among 
them are admirable specimens of humanity. There is 
no warrant for holding them up to suspicion as the peo- 
ple's foes. 

Nor do I regard as less calumnious the outcry against 
the working classes, as if they were aiming at the sub- 
version of property. When we think of the general 
condition and character of this part of our population, 
when we recollect, that they were born and have lived 
amidst schools and churches, that they have been brought 
up to profitable industry, that they enjoy many of the 
accommodations of life, that most of them hold a meas- 
ure of property and are hoping for more, that they pos- 
sess unprecedented means of bettering their lot, that 
they are bound to comfortable homes by strong domes- 
tic affections, that they are able to give their children an 
education which places within their reach the prizes of 
the social state, that they are trained to the habits, and 
familiarized to the advantages of a high civilization ; 
when we recollect these things, can we imagine that 
they are so insanely blind to their interests, so deaf to 
the claims of justice and religion, so profligately thought- 
less of the peace and safety of their families, as to be 
prepared to make a wreck of social order, for the sake 
of dividing among themselves the spoils of the rich, 
which would not support the community for a month ? 
Undoubtedly there is insecurity in all stages of society, 
and so there must be, until communities shall be regen- 
erated by a higher culture, reaching and quickening all 
classes of the people; but there is not, I believe, a 
spot on earth, where property is safer than here, be- 
cause, nowhere else is it so equally and righteously dif- 



SELF-CULTURE. 443 

fused. In aristocracies, where wealth exists in enormous 
masses, which have been entailed for ages by a partial 
legislation on a favored few, and where the multitude, 
after the sleep of ages, are waking up to intelligence, 
to self-respect, and to a knowledge of their rights, prop- 
erty is exposed to shocks which are not to be dreaded 
among ourselves. Here indeed as elsewhere, among 
the less prosperous members of the community, there 
are disappointed, desperate men, ripe for tumult and 
civil strife ; but it is also true, that the most striking 
and honorable distinction of this country is to be found 
in the intelligence, character, and condition of the great 
working class. To me it seems, that the great danger 
to property here is not from the laborer, but from those 
who are making haste to be rich. For example, in this 
commonwealth, no act has been thought by the alarmists 
or the conservatives so subversive of the rights of prop- 
erty, as a recent law, authorizing a company to con- 
struct a free bridge, in the immediate neighbourhood of 
another, which had been chartered by a former legisla- 
ture, and which had been erected in the expectation of 
an exclusive right. And with whom did this alleged 
assault on property originate ? With levellers ? with 
needy laborers ? with men bent on the prostration of the 
rich ? No ; but with men of business, who are anxious 
to push a more lucrative trade. Again, what occur- 
rence among us has been so suited to destroy confi- 
dence, and to stir up the people against the moneyed 
class, as the late criminal mismanagement of some of 
our banking institutions ? And whence came this ? from 
the rich, or the poor ? From the agrarian, or the man 
of business ? Who, let me ask, carry on the work of 
spoliation most extensively in society ? Is not more 



444 SELF-CULTURE. 

property wrested from its owners by rash or dishonest 
failures, than by professed highwaymen and thieves f 
Have not a few unprincipled speculators sometimes in- 
flicted wider wrongs and sufferings, than all the tenants 
of a state prison ? Thus property is in more danger 
from those who are aspiring after wealth, than from 
those who live by the sweat of their brow. I do not 
believe, however, that the institution is in serious danger 
from either. All the advances of society in industry, 
useful arts, commerce, knowledge, jurisprudence, fra- 
ternal union, and practical Christianity 7 , are so many 
hedges around honestly acquired wealth, so many bar- 
riers against revolutionary violence and rapacity. Let 
us not torture ourselves with idle alarms, and still more, 
let us not inflame ourselves against one another by mu- 
tual calumnies. Let not class array itself against class, 
where all have a common interest. One way of pro- 
voking men to crime, is to suspect them of criminal 
designs. We do not secure our property against the 
poor, by accusing them of schemes of universal rob- 
bery ; nor render the rich better friends of the com- 
munity, by fixing on them the brand of hostility to the 
people. Of all parties, those founded on different social 
conditions are the most pernicious ; and in no country 
on earth are they so groundless as in our own. 

Among the best people, especially among the more 
religious, there are some, who, through disgust with the 
violence and frauds of parties, withdraw themselves from 
all political action. Such, I conceive, do wrong. God 
has placed them in the relations, and imposed on them 
the duties of citizens ; and they are no more authorized 
to shrink from these duties than from those of sons, 
husbands, or fathers. They owe a great debt to their 



SELF-CULTURE. 445 

country, and must discharge it by giving support to what 
they deem the best men and the best measures. Nor 
let them say, that they can do nothing. Every good 
man, if faithful to his convictions, benefits his country. 
All parties are kept in check by the spirit of the better 
portion of people whom they contain. Leaders are al- 
ways compelled to ask what their party will bear, and to 
modify their measures, so as not to shock the men of 
principle within their ranks. A good man, not tamely 
subservient to the body with which he acts, but judging it 
impartially, criticizing it freely, bearing testimony against 
its evils, and withholding his support from wrong, does 
good to those around him, and is cultivating generously 
his own mind. 

I respectfully counsel those whom I address, to take 
part in the politics of their country. These are the 
true discipline of a people, and do much for their edu- 
cation. I counsel you to labor for a clear understand- 
ing of the subjects which agitate the communitv, to 
make them your study, instead of wasting your leisure 
in vague, passionate talk about them. The time thrown 
away by the mass of the people on the rumors of the 
day, might, if better spent, give them a good acquaint- 
ance with the constitution, laws, history, and interests 
of their country, and thus establish them in those great 
principles by which particular measures are to be de- 
termined. In proportion as the people thus improve 
themselves, they will cease to be the tools of designing 
politicians. Their intelligence, not their passions and 
jealousies, will be addressed by those who seek their 
votes. They will exert, not a nominal, but a real in- 
fluence on the government and the destinies of the coun- 
try, and at the same time will forward their own growth 
in truth and virtue. LL 



446 SELF- CULTURE. 

I ought not to quit this subject of politics, considered 
as a means of self-culture, without speaking of news- 
papers ; because these form the chief reading of the 
bulk of the people. They are the literature of multi- 
tudes. Unhappily, their importance is not understood ; 
their bearing on the intellectual and moral cultivation 
of the community little thought of. A newspaper ought 
to be conducted by one of our most gifted men, and its 
income should be such as to enable him to secure the 
contributions of men as gifted as himself. But we must 
take newspapers as they are ; and a man, anxious for 
self-culture, may turn them to account, if he will select 
the best within his reach. He should exclude from his 
house such as are venomous or scurrilous, as he would 
a pestilence. He should be swayed in his choice, not 
merely by the ability with which a paper is conducted, 
but still more by its spirit, by its justice, fairness, and 
steady adherence to great principles. Especially, if he 
would know the truth, let him hear both sides. Let 
him read the defence as well as the attack. Let him 
not give his ear to one party exclusively. We con- 
demn ourselves, when we listen to reproaches thrown 
on an individual and turn away from his exculpation ; 
and is it just to read continual, unsparing invective 
against large masses of men, and refuse them the oppor- 
tunity of justifying themselves ? 

A new class of daily papers has sprung up in our 
country, sometimes called cent papers, and designed 
for circulation among those who cannot afford costlier 
publications. My interest in the working class induced 
me some time ago to take one of these, and I was grati- 
fied to find it not wanting in useful matter. Two things 
however gave me pain. The advertising columns were 



SELF-CULTURE. 447 

devoted very much to patent medicines ; and when I 
considered that a laboring man's whole fortune is his 
health, I could not but lament, that so much was done 
to seduce him to the use of articles, more fitted, I fear, 
to undermine than to restore his constitution. I was 
also shocked by accounts of trials in the police court. 
These were written in a style adapted to the most un- 
cultivated minds, and intended to turn into matters of 
sport the most painful and humiliating events of life. 
Were the newspapers of the rich to attempt to extract 
amusement from the vices and miseries of the poor, 
a cry would be raised against them, and very justly. 
But is it not something worse, that the poorer classes 
themselves should seek occasions of laughter and mer- 
riment in the degradation, the crimes, the woes, the 
punishments of their brethren, of those who are doomed 
to bear like themselves the heaviest burdens of life, 
and who have sunk under the temptations of poverty ? 
Better go to the hospital, and laugh over the wounds 
and writhings of the sick or the ravings of the insane, 
than amuse ourselves with brutal excesses and infernal 
passions, which not only expose the criminal to the 
crushing penalties of human law T s, but incur the dis- 
pleasure of Heaven, and, if not repented of, will be 
followed by the fearful retribution of the life to come. 

One important topic remains. That great means of 
self-improvement, Christianity, is yet untouched, and 
its greatness forbids me now to approach it. I will 
only say, that if you study Christianity in its original 
records, and not in human creeds; if you consider its 
clear revelations of God, its life-giving promises of par- 
don and spiritual strength, its correspondence to man^ 
reason, conscience, and best affections, and its adapta- 



448 SELF-CULTURE. 

tion to his wants, sorrows, anxieties, and fears ; if you 
consider the strength of its proofs, the purity of its pre- 
cepts, the divine greatness of the character of its author, 
and the immortality which it opens before us, you will 
feel yourselves bound to welcome it joyfully, gratefully, 
as affording aids and incitements to self-culture, which 
would vainly be sought in all other means. 

I have thus presented a few of the means of self- 
culture. The topics, now discussed, will I hope sug- 
gest others to those who have honored me with their 
attention, and create an interest which will extend 
beyond the present hour. I owe it however to truth 
to make one remark. I wish to raise no unreasonable 
hopes. I must say, then, that the means now recom- 
mended to you, though they will richly reward every 
man of every age who will faithfully use them, will yet 
not produce their full and happiest effect, except in 
cases where early education has prepared the mind for 
future improvement. They, whose childhood has been 
neglected, though they may make progress in future 
life, can hardly repair the loss of their first years ; 
and I say this, that we may all be excited to save our 
children from this loss, that we may prepare them, to 
the extent of our power, for an effectual use of all the 
means of self-culture, which adult age may bring with it. 
With these views, I ask you to look with favor on the 
recent exertions of our legislature and of private citizens, 
in behalf of our public schools, the chief hope of our 
country. The legislature has of late appointed a board 
of education, with a secretary, who is to devote his 
whole time to the improvement of public schools. An 
individual more fitted to this responsible office, than 



SELF-CULTURE. 449 

the gentleman who now fills it,* cannot, I believe, be 
found in .our community ; and if his labors shall be 
crowned with success, he will earn a title to the grati- 
tude of the good people of this State, unsurpassed by 
that of any other living citizen. Let me also recall' to 
your minds a munificent individual, f who, by a generous 
donation, has encouraged the legislature to resolve on 
the establishment of one or more institutions called 
Normal Schools, the object of which is, to prepare ac- 
complished teachers of youth, a work, on which the 
progress of education depends more than on any other 
measure. The efficient friends of education are the 
true benefactors of their country, and their names 
deserve to be handed down to that posterity, for whose 
highest wants they are generously providing. 

There is another mode of advancing education in our 
whole country, to which I ask your particular attention. 
You are aware of the vast extent and value of the pub- 
lic lands of the Union. By annual sales of these, large 
amounts of money are brought into the national treasury, 
which are applied to the current expenses of the Gov- 
ernment. For this application there is no need. In 
truth, the country has received detriment from the ex- 
cess of its revenues. Now, I ask, why shall not the 
public lands be consecrated (in whole or in part, as the 
case may require) to the education of the people ? 
This measure would secure at once what the country 
most needs, that is, able, accomplished, quickening 
teachers of the whole rising generation. The present 
poor remuneration of instructors is a dark omen, and the 
only real obstacle which the cause of education has to 

* Horace Mann, Esq. f Edmund Dwight, Esq. 

34 ll* 



450 SELF-CULTURE. 

contend with. Wc need for our schools gifted men ana 
women, worthy, by their intelligence and their moral 
power, to be intrusted with a nation's youth ; and, to gain 
these, we must pay them liberally, as well as afford other 
proofs of the consideration in which we hold them. In 
the present state of the country, when so many paths of 
wealth and promotion are opened, superior men cannot 
be won to an office so responsible and laborious as that 
of teaching, without stronger inducements than are now 
offered, except in some of our large cities. The office 
of instructor ought to rank and be recompensed as one 
of the most honorable in society ; and I see not how 
this is to be done, at least in our day, without appropri- 
ating to it the public domain. This is the people's 
property, and the only part of their property which is 
likely to be soon devoted to the support of a high order 
of institutions for public education. This object, inter- 
esting to all classes of society, has peculiar claims on 
those whose means of improvement are restricted by 
narrow circumstances. The mass of the people should 
devote themselves to it as one man, should toil for it 
with one soul. Mechanics, Farmers, Laborers ! let the 
country echo with your united cry, " The Public Lands 
for Education." Send to the public councils men who 
will plead this cause with power. No party triumphs, 
no trades-unions, no associations, can so contribute to 
elevate you as the measure now proposed. Nothing 
but a higher education can raise you in influence and true 
dignity. The resources of the public domain, wisely 
applied for successive generations to the culture of 
society and of the individual, would create a new peo- 
ple, would awaken through this community intellectual 
and moral energies, such as the records of no country 



SELF-CULTIERE. 451 

display, and as would command the respect and emula- 
tion of the civilized world. In this grand object, the 
working men of all parties, and in all divisions of the 
land, should join with an enthusiasm not to be with- 
stood. They should separate it from all narrow and 
local strifes. They should not suffer it to be mixed up 
with the schemes of politicians. In it, they and their 
children have an infinite stake. May they be true to 
themselves, to posterity, to their country, to freedom, to 
the cause of mankind. 

III. I am aware, that the whole doctrine of this dis- 
course will meet with opposition. There are not a few 
who will say to me, u What you tell us sounds well; 
but it is impracticable. Men, who dream in their closets, 
spin beautiful theories ; but actual life scatters them, as 
the wind snaps the cobweb. You would have all men 
to be cultivated ; but necessity wills that most men shall 
work ; and which of the two is likely to prevail ? A 
weak sentimentality may shrink from the truth ; still it is 
true, that most men were made, not for self-culture, but 
for toil." 

I have put the objection into strong language, that 
we may all look it fairly in the face. For one I deny 
its validity. Reason, as well as sentiment, rises up 
against it. The presumption is certainly very strong,' 
that the All-wise Father, who has given to every human 
being reason and conscience and affection, intended 
that these should be unfolded ; and it is hard to believe, 
that He, who, by conferring this nature on all men, has 
made all his children, has destined the great majority to 
wear out a life of drudgery and unimproving toil, for 
the benefit of a few. God cannot have made spiritual 



452 SELF-CULTURE. 

Deings to be dwarfed. In the body we see no organs 
created to shrivel by disuse ; much less are the powers 
of the soul given to be locked up in perpetual lethargy. 

Perhaps it will be replied, that the purpose of the 
.Creator is to be gathered, not from theory, but from 
facts ; and that it is a plain fact, that the order and pros- 
perity of society, which God must be supposed to 
intend, require from the multitude the action of their 
hands, and not the improvement of their minds. I re- 
ply, that a social order, demanding the sacrifice of the 
mind, is very suspicious, that it cannot indeed be sanc- 
tioned by the Creator. Were I, on visiting a strange 
country, to see the vast majority of the people maimed, 
crippled, and bereft of sight, and were I told that social 
order required this mutilation, I should say, Perish this 
order. Who would not think his understanding as well 
as best feelings insulted, by hearing this spoken of as the 
intention of God ? Nor ought we to look with less 
aversion on a social system, which can only be upheld 
by crippling and blinding the Minds of the people. 

But to come nearer to the point. Are labor and self- 
culture irreconcilable to each other ? In the first 
place, we have seen that a man, in the midst of labor, 
may and ought to give himself to the most important 
improvements, that he may cultivate his sense of justice, 
his benevolence, and the desire of perfection. Toil is 
the school for these high principles ; and we have here 
a strong presumption, that, in other respects, it does not 
necessarily blight the soul. Next we have seen, that 
the most fruitful sources of truth and wisdom are not 
books, precious as they are, but experience and obser- 
vation ; and these belong to all conditions. It is another 
important consideration, that almost all labor demands 



SELF-CULTURE. / 4^3 

intellectual activity, and is best carried on by those who 
invigorate their minds ; so that the two interests, toil and 
self-culture, are friends to each other. It is Mind, after 
all, which does the work of the world, so that the more 
there is of mind, the more work will be accomplished. 
A man, in proportion as he is intelligent, makes a given 
force accomplish a greater task, makes skill take the 
place of muscles, and, with less labor, gives a better 
product. Make men intelligent, and they become in- 
ventive. They find shorter processes. Their knowl- 
edge of nature helps them to turn its laws to ac- 
count, to understand the substances on which they 
work, and to seize on useful hints, which experience 
continually furnishes. It is among workmen, that some 
of the most useful machines have been contrived. 
Spread education, and, as the history of this country 
shows, there will be no bounds to useful inventions. 
You think, that a man without culture will do all the 
better what you call the drudgery of life. Go then to 
the Southern plantation. There the slave is brought up 
to be a mere drudge. He is robbed of the rights of a 
man, his whole spiritual nature is starved, that he may 
work, and do nothing but work ; and in that slovenly 
agriculture, in that worn-out soil, in the rude state of the 
mechanic arts, you may find a comment on your doc- 
trine, that, by degrading men, you make them more 
productive laborers. 

But it is said, that any considerable education lifts 
men above their work, makes them look with disgust on 
their trades as mean and low, makes drudgery intolera- 
ole. I reply, that a man becomes interested in labor, 
just in proportion as the mind works with the hands. 
An enlightened farmer, who understands agricultural 
34* 



45"4 



SELP-CULTURE. 



chemistry, the laws of vegetation, the structure of plants, 
the properties of manures, the influences of climate, 
who looks intelligently on his work, and brings his knowl- 
edge to bear on exigencies, is a much more cheerful, as 
well as more dignified laborer, than the peasant, whose 
mind is akin to the clod on which he treads, and whose 
whole life is the same dull, unthinking, unimproving toil. 
But this is not all. Why is it, I ask, that we call manual 
labor low, that we associate with it the idea of meanness, 
and think that an intelligent people must scorn it ? The 
great reason is, that, in most countries, so few intelligent 
people have been engaged in it. Once let cultivated 
men plough, and dig, and follow the commonest labors, 
and ploughing, digging, and trades, will cease to be 
mean. It is the man who determines the dignity of the 
occupation, not the occupation which measures the dig- 
nity of the man. Physicians and surgeons perform 
operations less cleanly than fall to the lot of most me- 
chanics. I have seen a distinguished chemist covered 
with dust like a laborer. Still these men were not de- 
graded. Their intelligence gave dignity to their work, 
and so our laborers, once educated, will give dignity to 
their toils. — Let me add, that I see little difference in 
point of dignity, between the various vocations of men. 
.When I see a clerk, spending his days in adding figures, 
perhaps merely copying, or a teller of a bank counting 
money, or a merchant selling shoes and hides, I cannot 
see in these occupations greater respectableness than in 
making leather, shoes, or furniture. I do not see in 
them greater intellectual activity than in several trades. 
A. man in the fields seems to have more chances of im 
provement in his work, than a man behind the counter, 
or a man driving the quill. It is the sign of a narrow 



SELF-CULTURE. 



455 



mind, to imagine, as many seem to do, that there is a 
repugnance between the plain, coarse exterior of a la- 
borer, and mental culture, especially the more refining 
culture. The laborer, under his dust and sweat, carries 
the grand elements of humanity, and he may put forth 
its highest powers. I doubt not, there is as genuine 
enthusiasm in the contemplation of nature, and in the 
perusal of works of genius, under a homespun garb as 
under finery. We have heard of a distinguished author, 
who never wrote so well, as when he was full dressed 
for company. But profound thought, and poetical in- 
spiration, have most generally visited men, when, from 
narrow circumstances or negligent habits, the rent coat 
and shaggy face have made them quite unfit for polished 
saloons. A man may see truth, and may be thrilled 
with beauty, in one costume or dwelling as well as an- 
other ; and he should respect himself the more, for the 
hardships under which his intellectual force has been 
developed. 

But it will be asked, how can the laboring classes 
find time for self-culture ? I answer, as I have already 
intimated, that an earnest purpose finds time or makes 
time. It seizes on spare moments, and turns large/ 
fragments of leisure to golden account. A man, who 
follows his calling with industry and spirit, and uses his 
earnings economically, will always have some portion of 
the day at command ; and it is astonishing, how fruitful 
of improvement a short season becomes, when eagerly 
seized and faithfully used. It has often been observed, 
that they, who have most time at their disposal, profit by 
it least. A single hour in the day, steadily given to the 
study of an interesting subject, brings unexpected accu- 
mulations of knowledge. The improvements made by 



456 SELF-CULTURE. 

well-disposed pupils, in many of our country schools, 
which are open but three months in the year, and in our 
Sunday-schools, which are kept but one or two hours in 
the week, show what can be brought to pass by slender 
means. The affections, it is said, sometimes crowd 
years into moments, and the intellect has something 
of the same power. Volumes have not only been read, 
but written, in flying journeys. I have known a man of 
vigorous intellect, who had enjoyed few advantages of 
early education, and whose mind was almost engrossed 
by the details of an extensive business, but who composed 
a book of much original thought, in steam-boats and on 
horseback, while visiting distant customers. The suc- 
cession of the seasons gives to many of the working 
class opportunities for intellectual improvement. The 
winter brings leisure to the husbandman, and winter even- 
ings to many laborers in the city. Above all, in Chris- 
tian countries, the seventh day is released from toil. 
The seventh part of the year, no small portion of exist- 
ence, may be given by almost every one to intellectual 
and moral culture. Why is it that Sunday is not made 
a more effectual means of improvement ? Undoubtedly 
the seventh day is to have a religious character ; but re- 
ligion connects itself with all the great subjects of human 
thought, and leads to and aids the study of all. God is 
in nature. God is in history. Instruction in the works 
of the Creator, so as to reveal his perfection in their 
harmony, beneficence, and grandeur ; instruction in the 
histories of the church and the world, so as to show in 
all events his moral government, and to bring out the 
great moral lessons in which human life abounds ; in- 
struction in the lives of philanthropists, of saints, of men 
eminent for piety and virtue ; all these branches of teach- 



SELF-CULTURE. 457 

ing enter into religion, and are appropriate to Sunday ; 
and, through these, a vast amount of knowledge may be 
given to the people. Sunday ought not to remain the 
dull and fruitless season that it now is to multitudes. It 
may be clothed with a new interest and a new sanctity. 
It may give a new impulse to the nation's soul. — I have 
thus shown, that time may be found for improvement ; 
and the fact is, that, among our most improved people, 
a considerable part consists of persons, who pass the 
greatest portion of every day at the desk, in the counting- 
room, or in some other sphere, chained to tasks which 
have very little tendency to expand the mind. In the 
progress of society, with the increase of machinery, and 
with other aids which intelligence and philanthropy will 
multiply, we may expect that more and more time will 
be redeemed from manual labor, for intellectual and 
social occupations. 

But some will say, " Be it granted that the working 
classes may find some leisure ; should they not be al- 
lowed to spend it in relaxation ? Is it not cruel, to 
summon them from toils of the hand to toils of the 
mind ? They have earned pleasure by the day's toil, 
and ought to partake it." Yes, let them have pleasure. 
Far be it from me to dry up the fountains, to blight the 
spots of verdure, where they refresh themselves after 
life's labors. But I maintain, that self-culture multiplies 
and increases their pleasures, that it creates new capaci- 
ties of enjoyment, that it saves their leisure from being, 
what it too often is, dull and wearisome, that it saves 
them from rushing for excitement to indulgences de 
structive to body and soul. It is one of the great bene- 
fits of self-improvement, that it raises a people above 
the gratifications of the brute, and gives them pleasures 

MM 



458 SELF-CULTURE. 

worthy of men. In consequence of the present intel- 
lectual culture of our country, imperfect as it is, a vast 
amount of enjoyment is communicated to men, women, 
and children, of all conditions, by books, an enjoyment 
unknown to ruder times. At this moment, a number 
of gifted writers are employed in multiplying entertain- 
ing works. Walter Scott, a name conspicuous among 
the brightest of his day, poured out his inexhaustible 
mind in fictions, at once so sportive and thrilling, that 
they have taken their place among the delights of all civi- 
lized nations. How many millions have been chained to 
his pages ! How many melancholy spirits has he steeped 
in forgtfulness of their cares and sorrows ! What mul- 
titudes, wearied by their day's work, have owed some 
bright evening hours and balmier sleep to his magical 
creations ! And not only do fictions give pleasure. In 
proportion as the mind is cultivated, it takes delight in 
history and biography, in descriptions of nature, in trav- 
els, in poetry, and even graver works. Is the laborer 
then defrauded of pleasure by improvement ? There 
is another class of gratifications to which self-culture 
introduces the mass of the people. I refer to lectures, 
discussions, meetings of associations for benevolent and 
literary purposes, and to other like methods of passing 
the evening, which every year is multiplying among- us. 
A popular address from an enlightened man, who has 
the tact to reach the minds of the people, is a high 
gratification, as well as a source of knowledge. The 
profound silence in our public halls, where these lectures 
are delivered to crowds, shows that cultivation is no foe 
to enjoyment. — I have a strong hope, that by the pro- 
gress of intelligence, taste, and morals among all por- 
tions of society, a class of public amusements will grow 



SELF-CULTURE. 459 

up among us, bearing some resemblance to the theatre, 
but purified from the gross evils which degrade our 
present stage, and which, I trust, will seal its ruin. 
Dramatic performances and recitations are means of 
bringing the mass of the people into a quicker sympathy 
with a writer of genius, to a profounder comprehension 
of his grand, beautiful, touching conceptions, than can 
be effected by the reading of the closet. No commen- 
tary throws such a light on a great poem or any im- 
passioned work of literature, as the voice of a reader 
or speaker, who brings to the task a deep feeling of his 
author and rich and various powers of expression. A 
crowd, electrified by a sublime thought, or softened into 
a humanizing sorrow, under such a voice, partake a 
pleasure at once exquisite and refined ; and I cannot but 
believe, that this and other amusements, at which the 
delicacy of woman and the purity of the Christian can 
take no offence, are to grow up under a higher social 
culture. — Let me only add, that, in proportion as cul- 
ture spreads among a people, the cheapest and com- 
monest of all pleasures, conversation, increases in de- 
light. This, after all, is the great amusement of life, 
cheering us round our hearths, often cheering our work, 
stirring our hearts gently, acting on us like the balmy 
air or the bright light of heaven, so silently and con- 
tinually, that we hardly think of its influence. This 
source of happiness is too often lost to men of all classes, 
for want of knowledge, mental activity, and refinement 
of feeling ; and do we defraud the laborer of his pleas- 
ure, by recommending to him improvements which will 
place the daily, hourly, blessings of conversation within 
his reach ? 

I have thus considered some of the common objec- 



460 SELF-CULTURE. 

tions which start up when the culture of the mass of 
men is insisted on, as the great end of society. For 
myself, these objections seem worthy little notice. The 
doctrine is too shocking to need refutation, that the 
great majority of human beings, endowed as they are 
with rational and immortal powers, are placed on earth, 
simply to toil for their own animal subsistence, and to 
minister to the luxury and elevation of the few. It is 
monstrous, it approaches impiety, to suppose that God 
has placed insuperable barriers to the expansion of the 
free, illimitable soul. True, there are obstructions in 
the way of improvement. But in this country, the 
chief obstructions lie, not in our lot, but in ourselves, 
not in outward hardships, but in our worldly and sensual 
propensities ; and one proof of this is, that a true self- 
culture is as little thought of on exchange as in the 
workshop, as little among the prosperous as among those 
of narrower conditions. The path to perfection is diffi- 
cult to men in every lot ; there is no royal road for rich 
or poor. But difficulties are meant to rouse, not dis- 
courage. The human spirit is to grow strong by con- 
flict. And how much has it already overcome ! Un- 
der what burdens of oppression has it made its way for 
ages ! What mountains of difficulty has it cleared ! 
And with all this experience, shall we say, that the 
progress of the mass of men is to be despaired of, that 
the chains of bodily necessity are too strong and pon- 
derous to be broken by the mind, that servile, unim- 
proving drudgery is the unalterable condition of the 
multitude of the human race ? 

I conclude with recalling to you the happiest feature 
of our age, and that is, the progress of the mass of the 
people in intelligence, self-respect, and all the comforts 



SELF-CULTURE. 461 

of life. What a contrast does the present form with 
past times ! Not many ages ago, the nation was the 
property of one man, and all its interests were staked 
in perpetual games of war, for no end but to build up 
his family, or to bring new territories under his yoke. 
Society was divided into two classes, the high-born and 
the vulgar, separated from one another by a great gulf, 
as impassable as that between the saved and the lost. 
The people had no significance as individuals, but 
formed a mass, a machine, to be wielded at pleasure 
by their lords. In war, which was the great sport of 
the times, those brave knights, of whose prowess we 
hear, cased themselves and their horses in armour, so 
as to be almost invulnerable, whilst the common people 
on foot were left, without protection, to be hewn in 
pieces or trampled down by their betters. Who, that 
compares the condition of Europe a few years ago, with 
the present state of the world, but must bless God for 
the change. The grand distinction of modern times is, 
the emerging of the people from brutal degradation, the 
gradual recognition of their rights, the gradual diffusion 
among them of the means of improvement and happi- 
ness, the creation of a new power in the state, the 
power of the people. And it is worthy remark, that 
this revolution is due in a great degree to religion, 
which, in the hands of the crafty and aspiring, had 
bowed the multitude to the dust, but which, in the ful- 
ness of time, began to fulfil its mission of freedom. It 
was religion, which by teaching men their near rela- 
tion to God, awakened in them the consciousness of 
their importance as individuals. It was the struggle 
for religious rights, which opened men's eyes to all 
their rights. Tt was resistance to religious usurpation, 
35 MM* 



462 



SELF-CULTURE. 



which led men to withstand political oppression. It 
was religious discussion, which roused the minds of aL 
classes to free and vigorous thought. It was religion^ 
which armed the martyr and patriot in England against 
arbitrary power, w 7 hich braced the spirits of our fathers 
against the perils of the ocean and wilderness, and sent 
them to found here the freest and most equal state on 
earth. 

Let us thank God for what has been gained. But 
let us not think every thing gained. Let the people 
feel that they have only started in the race. How much 
remains to be done ! What a vast amount of igno- 
rance, intemperance, coarseness, sensuality, may still 
be found in our community ! What a vast amount of 
mind is palsied and lost ! When we think, that every 
house might be cheered by intelligence, disinterested- 
ness, and refinement, and then remember, in how many 
houses the higher powers and affections of human na- 
ture are buried as in tombs, what a darkness gathers 
over society ! And how few of us are moved by this 
moral desolation ? How few understand, that to raise 
the depressed, by a wdse culture, to the dignity of men. 
is the highest end of the social state ? Shame on us, 
that the worth of a fellow-creature is so little felt. 

I w^ould, that I could speak with an awakening voice 
to the people, of their wants, their privileges, their re- 
sponsibilities. I would say to them, You cannot, with- 
out guilt and disgrace, stop where you are. The past 
and the present call on you to advance. Let what you 
have gained be an impulse to something higher. Your 
nature is too great to be crushed. You w r ere not cre- 
ated what you are, merely to toil, eat, drink, and sleep, 
like the inferior animals. If you will, you can rise. 



SELF-CULTUItE. 463 

No power in society, no hardship in your condition can 
depress you, keep you down, in knowledge, power, 
virtue, influence, but by your own consent. Do not be 
lulled to sleep by the flatteries which you hear, as if 
your participation in the national sovereignty made you 
equal to the noblest of your race. You have many 
and great deficiencies to be remedied ; and the remedy 
lies, not in the ballot-box, not in the exercise of your 
political powers, but in the faithful education of your- 
selves and your children. These truths you have often 
heard and slept over. Awake ! Resolve earnestly on 
Self-culture. Make yourselves worthy of your free 
institutions, and strengthen and perpetuate them by your 
intelligence and your virtues. 



THE 

IMITABLENESS OF CHRIST'S CHARACTER. 



1 Peter ii. 21 : " Christ also suffered for us, leaving us an exam- 
ple, that ye should follow his steps." 

The example of Jesus is our topic. To incite you to 
follow it, is the aim of this discourse. Christ came to 
give us a religion, — but this is not all. By a wise and 
beautiful ordination of Providence, he was sent to show 
forth his religion in himself. He did not come to sit in 
a hall of legislation, and from some commanding emi- 
nence to pronounce laws and promises. He is not a 
mere channel through which certain communications 
are made from God ; not a mere messenger appointed 
to utter the words which he had heard, and then to dis- 
appear, and to sustain no further connexion with his 
message. He came, not only to teach with his lips, but 
to be a living manifestation of his religion, — to be, in 
an important sense, the religion itself. 

This is a peculiarity worthy of attention. Christianity 
is not a mere code of laws, not an abstract system such 
as theologians frame. It is a living, embodied religion. 
It comes to us in a human form ; it offers itself to our 
eyes as well as ears ; it breathes, it moves in our sight. 
It is more than precept ; it is example and action. 



466 THE IMITABLENESS OF 

The importance of example, who does not under- 
stand ? How much do most of us suffer from the pres- 
ence, conversation, spirit, of men of low minds by 
whom we are surrounded ! The temptation is strong, 
to take as our standard, the average character of the 
society in which we live, and to satisfy ourselves with 
decencies and attainments which secure to us among the 
multitude the name of respectable men. On the other 
hand, there is a power (have you not felt it ?) in the 
presence, conversation, and example of a man of strong 
principle and magnanimity, to lift us, at least for the 
moment, from our vulgar and tame habits of thought, 
and to kindle some generous aspirations after the excel- 
lence which we were made to attain. I hardly need say 
to you, that it is impossible to place ourselves under any 
influence of this nature so quickening as the example of 
Jesus. This introduces us to the highest order of vir- 
tues. This is fitted to awaken the whole mind. Noth- 
ing has equal power to neutralize the coarse, selfish, and 
sensual influences, amidst which we are plunged, to re- 
fine our conception of duty, and to reveal to us the per- 
fection on which our hopes and most strenuous desires 
should habitually fasten. 

There is one cause, which has done much to defeat 
this good influence of Christ's character and example, 
and which ought to be exposed. It is this. Multitudes, 
I am afraid great multitudes, think of Jesus as a being 
to be admired, rather than approached. They have 
some vague conceptions of a glory in his nature and 
character which makes it presumption to think of pro- 
posing him as their standard. He is thrown so far from 
them, that he does them little good. Many feel that a 
close resemblance of Jesus Christ is not to be expected ; 



CHRIST'S CHARACTER. 467 

that this, like many other topics, may serve for decla- 
mation in the pulpit, but is utterly incapable of being 
reduced to practice. I think I am touching here an 
error, which exerts a blighting influence on not a few 
minds. Until men think of the religion and character 
of Christ as truly applicable to them, as intended to be 
brought into continual operation, as what they must in- 
corporate with their whole spiritual nature, they will 
derive little good from Christ. Men think indeed to 
honor Jesus, when they place him so high as to dis- 
courage all effort to approach him. They really degrade 
him. They do not understand his character ; they 
throw a glare over it, which hides its true features. 
This vague admiration is the poorest tribute which they 
can pay him. 

The manner in which Jesus Christ is conceived and 
spoken of by many, reminds me of what is often seen 
in Catholic countries, where a superstitious priesthood 
and people imagine that they honor the Virgin Mary 
by loading her image with sparkling jewels and the 
gaudiest attire. A Protestant of an uncorrupted taste 
is at first shocked, as if there was something like pro- 
fanation in thus decking out, as for a theatre, the meek^ 
modest, gentle, pure, and tender mother of Jesus. It 
seems to me, that something of the same superstition is 
seen in the indefinite epithets of admiration heaped upon 
Jesus ; and the effect is, that the mild and simple beauty 
of his character is not seen. Its sublimity, which had 
nothing gaudy or dazzling, which was plain and unaffect- 
ed, is not felt ; and its suitableness as an example to 
mankind, is discredited or denied. 

I wish, in this discourse, to prevent the discouraging 
influence of the greatness of Jesus Christ ; to show, that, 
12* 



468 THE IMITABLENESS OF 

however exalted, he is not placed beyond the reach of 
our sympathy and imitation. 

I begin with the general observation, that real great- 
ness of character, greatness of the highest order, far 
from being repulsive and discouraging, is singularly ac- 
cessible and linkable, and, instead of severing a being 
from others, fits him to be their friend and model. A 
man who stands apart from his race, who has few points 
of contact with other men, who has a style and manner 
which strike awe, and keep others far from him, what- 
ever rank he may hold in his own and others' eyes, 
wants, after all, true grandeur of mind ; and the spirit 
of this remark, I think, may be extended beyond men 
to higher orders of beings, to angels and to Jesus Christ. 
A great soul is known by its enlarged, strong, and tender 
sympathies. True elevation of mind does not take a 
being out of the circle of those who are below him, but 
binds him faster to them, and gives them advantages for 
a closer attachment and conformity to him. 

Greatness of character is a communicable attribute ; 
I should say, singularly communicable. It has nothing 
exclusive in its nature. It cannot be the monopoly of 
an individual, for it is the enlarged and generous action 
of faculties and affections which enter into and consti- 
tute all minds, I mean reason, conscience, and love, so 
that its elements exist in all. It is not a peculiar or ex- 
clusive knowledge, which can be shut up in one or a few 
understandings ; but the comprehension of great and 
universal truths, which are the proper objects of every 
rational being. It is not a devotion to peculiar, exclu- 
sive objects, but the adoption of public interests, the 
consecration of the mind to the cause of virtue and hap- 



CHRIST'S CHARACTER. 469 

piness in the creation, that is, to the very cause which 
all intelligent beings are bound to espouse. Greatness 
is not a secret, solitary principle, working by itself and 
refusing participation, but frank and open-hearted, so 
large in its views, so liberal in its feelings, so expansive 
in its purposes, so beneficent in its labors, as naturally 
and necessarily to attract sympathy and cooperation. 
It is selfishness that repels men ; and true greatness has 
not a stronger characteristic than its freedom from every 
selfish taint. So far from being imprisoned in private 
interests, it covets nothing which it may not impart. So 
far from being absorbed in its own distinctions, it dis- 
cerns nothing so quickly and joyfully as the capacities 
and pledges of greatness in others, and counts no labor 
so noble as to call forth noble sentiments, and the con- 
sciousness of a divine power, in less improved minds. 

I know that those who call themselves great on earth, 
are apt to estrange themselves from their inferiors ; and 
the multitude, cast down by their high bearing, never 
think of proposing them as examples. But this springs 
wholly from the low conceptions of those whom we call 
the great, and shows a mixture of vulgarity of mind with 
their superior endowments. Genuine greatness is marked 
by simplicity, unostentatiousness, self-forgetfulness, a 
hearty interest in others, a feeling of brotherhood with 
the human family, and a respect for every intellectual 
and immortal being as capable of progress towards hs 
own elevation. A superior mind, enlightened and kin- 
dled by just views of God and of the creation, regards 
its gifts and powers as so many bonds of union with 
other beings, as given it, not to nourish self-elation, but 
to be employed for others, and still more to be commu- 
nicated to others. Such greatness has no reserve, and 

NN 



470 THE IMITABLENESS OP 

especially no affected dignity of deportment. It is too 
conscious of its own power, to need, and too benevo- 
lent to desire, to entrench itself behind forms and cere- 
monies ; and when circumstances permit such a charac- 
ter to manifest itself to inferior beings, it is beyond all 
others the most winning, and most fitted to impart itself, 
or to call forth a kindred elevation of feeling. I know 
not in history an individual so easily comprehended as 
Jesus Christ, for nothing is so intelligible as sincere, dis- 
interested love. I know not any being who is so fitted 
to take hold on all orders of minds ; and accordingly he 
drew after him the unenlightened, the publican, and the 
sinner. It is a sad mistake, then, that Jesus Christ is 
too great to allow us to think of intimacy with him, and 
to think of making him our standard. 

Let me confirm this truth by another order of reflec- 
tions. You tell me, my hearers, that Jesus Christ is so 
high that he cannot be your model ; I grant the exalta- 
tion of his character. I believe him to be a more than 
human being. In truth, all Christians so believe him. 
Those who suppose him not to have existed before his 
birth, do not regard him as a mere man, though so re- 
proached. They always separate him by broad distinc- 
tions from other men. They consider him as enjoying 
a communion with God, and as having received gifts, 
endowments, aid, lights from him, granted to no other, 
and as having exhibited a spotless purity, which is the 
highest distinction of Heaven. All admit, and joyfully 
admit, that Jesus Christ, by his greatness and goodness, 
throws all other human attainments into obscurity. But 
on this account he is not less a standard, nor is he to 
discourage us, but on the contrary to breathe into us a 



CHRIST'S CHARACTER. 471 

more exhilarating hope ; for though so far above us, 
he is still one of us, and is only an illustration of the 
capacities which we all possess. This is a great truth. 
Let me strive to unfold it. Perhaps I cannot better 
express my views, than by saying, that I regard all 
minds as of one family. When we speak of higher or- 
ders of beings, of angels and archangels, we are apt to 
conceive of distinct kinds or races of beings, separated 
from us and from each other by impassable barriers. 
But it is not so. All minds are of one family. There 
is no such partition in the spiritual world as you see in 
the material. In material nature, you see wholly dis- 
tinct classes of beings. A mineral is not a vegetable, 
and makes no approach to it ; these two great kingdoms 
of nature are divided by immeasurable spaces. So, 
when we look at different races of animals, though all 
partake of that mysterious property, life, yet, what an 
immense and impassable distance is there between the 
insect and the lion. They have no bond of union, no 
possibility of communication. During the lapse of ages, 
the animalcules which sport in the sunbeams a summer's 
day and then perish, have made no approximation to the 
king of the forests. But in the intellectual world there 
are no such barriers. All minds are essentially of one 
origin, one nature, kindled from one divine flame, and 
are all tending to one centre, one happiness. This great 
truth, to us the greatest of truths, which lies at the foun- 
dation of all religion and of all hope, seems to me not 
only sustained by proofs which satisfy the reason, but to 
be one of the deep instincts of our nature. It min- 
gles, unperceived, with all our worship of God, which 
uniformly takes for granted that he is a Mind having 
thought, affection, and volition like ourselves. It runs 



472 THE IMITABLENESS OF 

through false religions ; and whilst, by its perversion, 
it has made them false, it has also given to them what- 
ever purifying power they possess. But passing over 
this instinct, which is felt more and more to be unerring 
as the intellect is improved, this great truth of the unity 
or likeness of all minds, seems to me demonstrable from 
this consideration, that Truth, the object and nutriment 
of mind, is one and immutable, so that the whole family 
of intelligent beings must have the same views, the same 
motives, and the same general ends. For example, a 
truth of mathematics, is not a truth only in this w T orld, 
a truth to our minds, but a truth everywhere, a truth in 
heaven, a truth to God, who has indeed framed his cre- 
ation according to the laws of this universal science. 
So, happiness and misery, which lie at the foundation 
of morals, must be to all intelligent beings what they are 
to us, the objects, one of desire and hope, and the other 
of aversion ; and who can doubt that virtue and vice 
are the same everywhere as on earth, that in every 
community of beings, the mind which devotes itself to 
the general weal, must be more reverenced than a mind 
which would subordinate the general interest to its own. 
Thus all souls are one in nature, approach one another, 
and have grounds and bonds of communion with one 
another. I am not only one of the human race ; I am 
one of the great intellectual family of God. There is 
no spirit so exalted, with which I have not common 
thoughts and feelings. That conception which I have 
gained, of One Universal Father, whose love is the 
fountain and centre of all things, is the dawn of the 
highest and most magnificent views in the universe y 
and if I look up to this being with filial love, I have the 
spring and beginning of the noblest sentiments and joys 



CHRIST'S CHARACTER. 47o 

which are known in the universe. No greatness, there- 
fore, of a being, separates me from him or makes him 
unapproachable by me. The mind of Jesus Christ, 
my hearer, and your mind are of one family ; nor was. 
there any thing in his, of which you have not the prin- 
ciple, the capacity, the promise in yourself. This is 
the very impression which he intends to give. He 
never held himself up as an inimitable and unapproach- 
able being ; but directly the reverse. He always spoke 
of himself as having come to communicate himself to 
others. He always invited men to believe on and ad- 
here to him, that they might receive that very spirit, that 
pure, celestial spirit, by which he was himself actuated. 
" Follow me," is his lesson. The relation which he came 
to establish between himself and mankind, was not that 
of master and slave, but that of friends. He compares 
himself, in a spirit of divine benevolence, to a vine, 
which, you know, sends its own sap, that by which it is 
itself nourished, into all its branches. We read, too, 
these remarkable words in his prayer for his disciples, 
" I have given to them the glory thou gavest me ; " 
and I am persuaded that there is not a glory, a virtue, 
a power, a joy, possessed by Jesus Christ, to which his 
disciples will not successively rise. In the spirit of 
these remarks, the Apostles say, " Let the same mind 
be in you which was also in Christ." 

I have said, that all minds being of one family, the 
greatness of the mind of Christ is no discouragement to 
our adoption of him as our model. I now observe, that 
there is one attribute of mind to which I have alluded, 
that should particularly animate us to propose to our- 
selves a sublime standard, as sublime as Jesus Christ. 
I refer to the principle of growth in human nature. We 

NN* 



474 THE IMITABLENESS OP 

were made to grow. Our faculties are germs, and given 
for an expansion, to which nothing authorizes us to set 
bounds. The soul bears the impress of illimitableness, 
in the thirst, the unquenchable thirst, which it brings 
with it into being, for a power, knowledge, happiness, 
which it never gains, and which always carry it forward 
into futurity. The body soon reaches its limit. But 
intellect, affection, moral energy, in proportion to their 
growth, tend to further enlargement, and every acquisi- 
tion is an impulse to something higher. When I con- 
sider this principle or capacity of the human soul, I 
cannot restrain the hope which it awakens. The parti- 
tion-walls which imagination has reared between men 
and higher orders of beings vanish. I no longer see 
aught to prevent our becoming whatever was good and 
great in Jesus on earth. In truth, I feel my utter ina- 
bility to conceive what a mind is to attain which is to 
advance for ever. Add but that element, eternity, to 
man's progress, and the results of his existence surpass, 
not only human, but angelic thought. Give me this, 
and the future glory of the human mind becomes to me 
as incomprehensible as God himself. To encourage 
these thoughts and hopes, our Creator has set before us 
delightful exemplifications, even now, of this principle 
of growth both in outward nature and in the human 
mind. We meet them in nature. Suppose you wero 
to carry a man, wholly unacquainted with vegetation, to 
the most majestic tree in our forests, and, whilst he was 
admiring its extent and proportions, suppose you should 
take from the earth at its root a little downy substance, 
which a breath might blow away, and say to him, That 
tree was once such a seed as this ; it was wrapped up 
here ; it once lived only within these delicate fibres, this 



CHRIST'S CHARACTER. 475 

narrow compass. With what incredulous wonder would 
he regard you ! And if by an effort of imagination, 
somewhat Oriental, we should suppose this little seed 
to be suddenly endued with thought, and to be told that 
it was one day to become this mighty tree, and to cast 
out branches which would spread an equal shade, and 
wave with equal grace, and withstand the winter winds ; 
with what amazement may we suppose it to anticipate 
its future lot ! Such growth we witness in nature. A 
nobler hope we Christians are to cherish ; and still more 
striking examples of the growth of mind are set before 
us in human history. We wonder indeed when we are 
told, that one day we shall be as the angels of God. I 
apprehend that as great a wonder has been realized al- 
ready on the earth. I apprehend that the distance be- 
tween the mind of Newton and of a Hottentot may 
have been as great as between Newton and an angel. 
There is another view still more striking. This New- 
ton, who lifted his calm, sublime eye to the heavens, 
and read among the planets and the stars, the great law 
of the material universe, was, forty or fifty years before, 
an infant, without one clear perception, and unable to 
distinguish his nurse's arm from the pillow on which he 
slept. Howard, too, who, under the strength of an all- 
sacrificing benevolence, explored the depths of human 
suffering, was, forty or fifty years before, an infant 
wholly absorbed in himself, grasping at all he saw. and 
almost breaking his little heart with fits of passion, when 
the idlest toy was withheld. Has not man already 
traversed as wide a space as separates him from angels ? 
And why must he stop ? There is no extravagance in 
the boldest anticipation. We may truly become one 
with Christ, a partaker of that celestial mind. He is 

13 



476 THE IMITABLENESS OP 

truly our brother, one of our family. Let us make him 
our constant model. 

I know not that the doctrine now laid down, is liable 
but to one abuse. It may unduly excite susceptible 
minds, and impel to a vehemence of hope and exertion 
unfavorable in the end to the very progress which is pro- 
posed. To such I would say, Hasten to conform your- 
selves to Christ, but hasten according to the laws of your 
nature. As the body cannot by the concentration of its 
whole strength into one bound, scale the height of a 
mountain, neither can the mind free every obstacle and 
achieve perfection by an agony of the will. Great effort 
is indeed necessary ; but such as can be sustained, such 
as fits us for greater, such as will accumulate, not ex- 
haust, our spiritual force. The soul may be overstrained 
as truly as the body, and it often is so in seasons of ex- 
traordinary religious excitement ; and the consequence 
is, an injury to the constitution of the intellect and the 
heart, which a life may not be able to repair. I rest the 
hopes for human nature, which I have now expressed, 
on its principle of growth ; and growth, as you well 
know, is a gradual process, not a convulsive start, ac- 
complishing the work of years in a moment. All great 
attainments are gradual. As easily might a science be 
mastered by one struggle of thought, as sin be conquered 
by a spasm of remorse. Continuous, patient effort, 
guided by wise deliberation, is the true means of spirit- 
ual progress. In religion, as in common life, mere force 
of vehemence will prove a fallacious substitute for the 
sobriety of wisdom. 

The doctrine which I have chiefly labored to maintain 
in this discourse, that minds are all of one family ? are all 



CHRIST'S CHARACTER. 477 

brethren, and may be more and more nearly united to 
God, seems to me to have been felt peculiarly by Jesus 
Christ ; and if I were to point out the distinction of his 
greatness, I should say it lay in this. He felt his supe- 
riority, but he never felt as if it separated hirn from man- 
kind. He did not come among us as some great men 
would visit a colliery, or any other resort of the ignorant 
and corrupt, with an air of greatness, feeling himself 
above us, and giving benefits as if it were an infinite con- 
descension. He came and mingled with us as a friend 
and a brother. He saw in every human being a mind 
which might wear his own brightest glory. He was se- 
vere only towards one class of men, and they were those 
who looked down on the multitude with contempt. Je- 
sus respected human nature ; he felt it to be his own. 
This was the greatness of Jesus Christ. He felt, as no 
other felt, a union of mind with the human race, felt that 
all had a spark of that same intellectual and immortal 
flame which dwelt in himself. 

I insist on this view of his character, not only to en- 
courage us to aspire after a likeness to Jesus ; I consider 
it as peculiarly fitted to call forth love towards him. If 
I regard Jesus as an august stranger, belonging to an en- 
tirely different class of existence from myself, having no 
common thoughts or feelings with me, and looking down 
upon me with only such a sympathy as I have with an 
inferior animal, I should regard him with a vague awe ; 
but the immeasurable space between us would place him 
beyond friendship and affection. But when I feel, that 
all minds form one family, that I have the same nature 
with Jesus, and that he came to communicate to me, by 
his teaching, example, and intercession, his own mind, to 



478 THE IM1TABLENESS OF 

bring me into communion with what was sublimest, pur- 
est, happiest in himself, then I can love him as I love no 
other being, excepting only Him who is the Father alike 
of Christ and of the Christian. With these views, I 
feel that, though ascended to Heaven, he is not gone 
beyond the reach of our hearts ; that he has now the 
same interest in mankind as when he entered their dwell- 
ings, sat at their tables, washed their feet ; and that 
there is no being so approachable, none with whom such 
unreserved intercourse is to be enjoyed in the future 
world. 

Believing, as I do, that I have now used no inflated 
language, but have spoken the words of truth and sober- 
ness, I exhort you with calmness, but earnestness, to 
choose and adopt Jesus Christ as your example, with 
the whole energy of your wills. I exhort you to resolve 
on following him, not, as perhaps you have done, with a 
faint and yielding purpose, but with the full conviction, 
that your whole happiness is concentrated in the force 
and constancy of your adherence to this celestial guide. 
My friends, there is no other happiness. Let not the 
false views of Christianity which prevail in the world, 
seduce you into the belief, that Christ can bless you in 
any other way than by assimilating you to his own virtue, 
than by breathing into you his own mind. Do not im- 
agine that any faith or love towards Jesus can avail you, 
but that which quickens you to conform yourselves to his 
spotless purity and unconquerable rectitude. Settle it 
as an immovable truth, that neither in this world nor in 
the next can you be happy, but in proportion to the 
sanctity and elevation of your characters. Let no man 
imagine, that through the patronage or protection of Je- 



CHRIST'S CHARACTER. 479 

sus Christ, or any other being, he can find peace or any- 
sincere good, but in the growth of an enlightened, firm, 
disinterested, holy mind. Expect no good from Jesus, 
any farther than you clothe yourselves with excellence. 
He can impart to you nothing so precious as himself, as 
his own mind ; and believe me, my hearers, this mind may 
dwell in you. His sublimest virtues may be yours. 
Admit, welcome this great truth. Look up to the illus- 
trious Son of God, with the conviction that you may be- 
come one with him in thought, in feeling, in power, in 
holiness. His character will become a blessing, just as 
far as it shall awaken in you this consciousness, this hope. 
The most lamentable skepticism on earth, and incom- 
parably the most common, is a skepticism as to the 
greatness, powers, and high destinies of human nature. 
In this greatness I desire to cherish an unwavering faith. 
Tell me not of the universal corruption of the race. 
Humanity has already, in not a few instances, borne 
conspicuously the likeness of Christ and God. The 
sun grows dim, the grandeur of outward nature shrinks, 
when compared with the spiritual energy of men, who, 
in the cause of truth, of God, of charity, have spurned 
all bribes of ease, pleasure, renown, and have withstood 
shame, want, persecution, torture, and the most dreaded 
forms of death. In such men I learn that the soul was 
made in God's image, and made to conform itself to the 
loveliness and greatness of his Son. 
• My Friends, we may all approach Jesus Christ. For 
all of us he died, to leave us an example that we should 
follow his steps. By earnest purpose, by self-conflict, 
by watching and prayer, by faith in the Christian prom- 
ises, by those heavenly aids and illuminations, which ho 
13* 



480 THE IMITABLENESS OF CHRIST'S CHARACTER. 

that seeketh shall find, we may all unite ourselves, in 
living bonds, to Christ, may love as he loved, may act 
from his principles, may suffer with his constancy, may 
enter into his purposes, may sympathize with his self- 
devotion to the cause of God and mankind, and, by like- 
ness of spirit, may prepare ourselves to meet him as our 
everlasting friend. 



